


So aware of you

by Stucky1980, WinterRaven



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Bisexual Steve Rogers, Blowjobs, Bucky Barnes is a doctor, Bucky is married to a rising political star, Bucky is the son of a politician, Captain America Big Bang 2019 | cabigbang, Don't copy to another site, Escort Steve Rogers, Explicit Sexual Content, Felching, Happy Ending, I don't know how else to describe it, M/M, Masturbation, Minor Character Death, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes, Rimming, Sex Worker Steve Rogers, cum kissing, inspired by American Gigolo, mentions of non-con and physical abuse, non-con not described explicitly, sexy semi-political drama/thriller, yes there is infidelity despite the true nature of the marriage, yes there will be violence near the end of the story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2020-11-23 01:07:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 53,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20883656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stucky1980/pseuds/Stucky1980, https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterRaven/pseuds/WinterRaven
Summary: Steve Rogers makes a lucrative living as an escort for some of the wealthy elite in the Los Angeles area. He believes in love and sex for hire. All that changes when he meets James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, the son of a long-standing California senator, and begins a heated affair with the man.





	1. Emotions come, I don't know why

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTES:
> 
> This is a collaboration for [Captain America Big Bang 2019](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/cabigbang2019). It will appear in the collection after the last chapter is posted. 
> 
> I have to say that this is my first time participating in the Captain America Big Bang. And it's been a wonderful experience! 
> 
> With regards to my posting schedule, I will be posting a new chapter every other day. The final chapter will be posted on the 28th.
> 
> Here are some folks I'd like to thank for making this event a really positive experience for me:
> 
> I would like to start off with thanking [Stucky 1980](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stucky1980) for claiming my fic and creating such wonderful and gorgeous art for this story. We're friends before the claims process started and it was such a treat and thrill when I found out she picked my fic as one she wanted to create art for. I admire her work and love her to bits. What a joy it has been to collaborate with her on this.
> 
> I would also like to thank [Mari_Knickerbocker](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mari_Knickerbocker) for agreeing to beta this story. It was really great having a fresh set of eyes looking at this small beast. Now, they know I have an erstwhile relationship with commas. LOL.
> 
> I would like to thank the CapBigBang mods for all their tireless hard work in organizing this event.
> 
> •••••
> 
> OTHER BUSINESS: Please read the tags to make sure you would be okay with reading this fic. I will indicate in the notes which chapters have descriptions of violence or mentions of a non-con situation. Any non-cons mentioned are not explicitly described.
> 
> Having said all that, I hope you enjoy the story! Cheers!

  
  


The used condom plopped into the toilet. Pushing down the lever flushed it away. Taking the clean, dry, and luxurious cream-colored face towel sitting on the counter beside the basin in the private washroom, he dampened it with the hot water. The cloth moved roughly over his arms, chest, groin and his cock, wiping away traces of saliva and semen and the feeling of cold, clammy, possessive hands.

He poured mouthwash directly into his mouth, swishing the liquid for approximately thirty seconds before spitting it out and putting the bottle back in the mirror cabinet. Quickly and efficiently, he put back on his light grey shirt with the button-down collar, dark grey trousers, and jacket. He adjusted the shirt cuffs as he stepped out of the washroom.

Raymond Atley, CEO of one of the country’s richest energy companies, was reading a report at his desk where everything was back in its rightful place. The photograph of his wife and near-adult children. The desk calendar. The brass antique anniversary clock. His laptop computer sitting on the bonded leather writing surface that made up the centre table top panel of the dark wood and burnished gold trim executive desk.

Twenty minutes earlier, the CEO had been bent over his desk. Pants pooling around his ankles, getting his ass pounded by the man who just walked out of his private washroom. Before that, Atley was on his knees, taking the length of the man’s cock down his throat. He always pencilled in a monthly lunch hour “business meeting” with the in-demand escort.

The more-salt-than-pepper haired man peered over his reading glasses at Steve Rogers. 

“That was a very productive meeting, Steven,” he said in a business-like tone.

Steve smirked. The man had a habit of talking in euphemisms once the clothes were back on. “I’m glad you find our meetings so stimulating, sir.”

“I think that we should increase the number of meetings we have a month. We could go bi-weekly with the intention of having weekly meetings at another location, mutually agreed upon, of course.”

“I’m flattered Mr. Atley. But you will have to contact Ms. Romanoff regarding scheduling, though. You know everything goes through her.”

“I am aware of that,” Atley responded, taking his glasses off his face. “I was hoping you had some say in your scheduling and who you take on as your clients.”

“Actually, I work for Ms. Romanoff, and you are her client, not mine, sir. But that’s probably a matter of semantics for you,” he smiled, side-stepping the request to address the idea of seeing Atley more often than he really wanted. He knew Natasha was going to have fun dealing with Atley’s latest request. “Just let her know you want to alter your agreement, and I’m sure she can accommodate your request.”

Atley harrumphed. “So, be it. I’ll call her this afternoon. Good day, Steven.”

“Good day, Mr. Atley.”

• • • • •

The next afternoon, Steve stood in front of a full-length mirror in a West Hollywood tailor shop known for its bespoke suits. He was there for the final fitting of his suits, happily paid for by Amanda, a woman of independent means and a longtime client of Natasha’s. That was until she decided she wanted the money she paid to indulge in Steve’s company, to go directly into Steve’s pocket instead of having a percentage go to Natasha. 

The fact the woman also wanted to shower him with the occasional gift was a bonus. Most of the time, the gifts comprised of trips to Europe and Asia, where he accompanied her on her business trips. Sex wasn’t always on the docket, but he was always available if the mood struck her. He was more of a companion than an outlet for her sexual needs.

This time, Amanda wanted to treat him to a couple of bespoke suits, no strings attached.

“A man as attractive as yourself should always have a suit or two that fits him perfectly,” she had said to him when she told him she wanted to gift him a pair of suits. “Appearances are still important. It’s what will help you get your foot in the door in whatever you want to do when you decide you don’t want to indulge me anymore.”

She was a practical and realistic woman. And she was right. Steve knew he wasn’t going to be an escort forever. Once the clients got tired of him or found a better flavour of the month, his life as a high-paid male escort would wind down. Right now, the money was still good, and it afforded him a degree of autonomy he enjoyed. 

One day, he would head back to New York, back to Brooklyn and live a completely different, more fulfilling life.

Eyeing the double-breasted jacket that flattered his physique, his fingers skated over the navy blue worsted wool. It didn’t feel like the itchy wool he associated with winters in Brooklyn. It was soft, smooth with a slight sheen to it. He loved the fit and feel of the jacket. The pants fit comfortably at the waist and hips. The length was perfect with something the tailor described as a half break. He walked, crouched, and sat in a chair to see how the cut responded to movement. There was nothing to complain about.

The second suit was a dark grey, three-piece suit. He had the final fitting with it before putting on the navy suit. That too, fit like a dream. 

“Navy looks striking on you,” Amanda remarked, sitting in a chair with a glass of white wine, watching the tailor measure and re-measure the suit, marking specific areas with chalk for further adjustments.

“Thank you,” Steve replied. “I think I’ll save this suit for special occasions. The grey one I could wear anytime, anywhere.”

“I would agree with your assessment. Take very good care of them. They will last a long time.” She stood up and walked over to Steve and the tailor.

“This is predicated on me maintaining the physique I have.”

“Oh, pish. I seriously doubt you will let yourself go,” she said, patting him on the shoulder as she took another sip of her wine.

With wine bottle in hand, one of the tailor’s assistants walked up to Amanda to top up her glass. “Thank you, dear,” she smiled.

“I hope you’re not drinking on an empty stomach,” Steve said with some concern.

“I had lunch,” she replied. “This is post-lunch wine. A good way to cap off a meal with one of my oldest girlfriends.”

“And how is Molly doing these days?” Steve asked as the tailor took the jacket off of him.

“She’s doing very well. Her oldest is getting married next week. It’s one of those destination weddings. Somewhere in the Caribbean, I believe.”

“Are you not going?” Steve stepped out of the pants and handed it over to the tailor who quickly informed him that the suits would be ready to be picked up in a week. Steve grabbed his own pair of pants and stepped into them.

“I was invited, but I don’t care for travelling to a tropical island,” Amanda explained. “I’ve never understood the appeal of pristine sand, and I don’t care much for lollygagging at the beach either. I never sat still and don’t have plans to start now. Molly understands.”

“No, you were never one to sit still,” Steve confirmed. “What are your plans for the rest of the day?”

“Back to the office,” Amanda sighed. “Some god-awful teleconferencing call that I have to referee. I would prefer it if people,in general, grew a pair of balls and got on with the business of being an adult.”

Steve smiled. “Well, thank you for the suits. You’ve been incredibly generous.” He was genuine about that remark. There weren’t a lot of clients whose company he enjoyed more than Amanda’s.

“Think nothing of it,” she responded, waving him off for the compliment. “If I were younger, I would have done anything and everything to get you to marry me.”

Steve’s cheeks turned pink.

“And it’s not because of the sex,” she added. “It’s because you have a good soul.”

“But I whore myself out for a living.”

“Don’t you dare say you whore yourself out. You’re providing a service for those who find it difficult or inconvenient to go the traditional route of having an actual relationship,” she said, waving her hand dismissively again. “Doesn’t mean you don’t have a good heart and a beautiful soul.” She glanced at her watch. “I hate to say this, darling, but I must head back to the office.” 

Slipping her hand behind his neck, she pulled him in planted a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll give you a call when I’m not so busy,” she added, stroking her thumb on his cheek to wipe away the lipstick.

• • • • •

Two days later, Steve pulled into the driveway of Natasha’s beach house located along the Pacific Coast Highway in Carbon Beach. He pulled out his phone to re-read the last text he received from Natasha four days ago but only opened two days ago.

_We need to talk when you can spare a moment._

It was a loaded request that could be taken in several different ways. 

It could be interpreted as sounding friendly in the way two friends needed to catch up after not seeing each other in a while. It could be interpreted as a need to discuss a non-urgent matter requiring a face-to-face meeting. Or it could be interpreted as in he was in deep shit, and Natasha was going to toss him into shark-infested water, bleeding from a stab wound.

He was hoping for the first option.

Climbing out of his metallic blue BMW coupe and adjusting his black ballcap, Steve girded himself as he walked over to punch in a code into the intercom. After two rings, Natasha answered.

“Nice of you to actually show up,” she said dryly. “I was beginning to wonder if you had disappeared.”

“I’ve been busy, Nat.”

“Well, at least you didn’t completely ignore my request.” 

She buzzed the gate door to unlock it, allowing Steve onto her property. Advancing up the walkway, she opened the door wearing yoga pants and a crop top with her hair gathered in a ponytail. Steve inhaled deeply and crossed the threshold.

“Would you like something to drink?” Natasha asked as she closed the door. “It’s been unseasonably warm.”

“Sure, I’ll just have mineral water.” He paused. “I apologize for not replying to your text sooner.”

Natasha handed him a bottle of San Pellegrino as they walked out onto the patio deck facing the Pacific Ocean. “I realize my text might have sounded… a little intimidating. I didn’t mean for it to come across that way.”

Steve relaxed slightly at her words and leaned against the railing. “Okay, so… what did you want to talk to me about?”

“I know you freelance your services on the side.”

Steve turned around to look out over the beach at the ocean, feeling the breeze caress his face.

“I’ve known for a while,” she continued. “And I was willing to ignore it.”

He turned to look at her. “But now?”

“I can’t ignore it anymore, Steve,” she replied before taking a drink from her own bottle of mineral water. “You’re starting to take business away from me. You’re one of my best— ” 

“I’d like to think I’m the best you have.”

Nat raised her hand to silence his interruption. “But you’re cutting me out, and that doesn’t look good,” she said calmly. “And don’t get cocky with me. We’re having a serious discussion. I showed you how it could be and how it is when you work for the right person. The first time I spotted you, I knew you could do better than whatever Pierce was offering you _and_ with better clientele. You weren’t happy. You just didn’t know it back then.” Natasha paused. “Are you not happy now?”

“You’ve always been good to me, Nat. That’s something I would never question or doubt.”

“You’re not answering my question,” she sighed. “If you were happy, you wouldn’t be taking on some of my regulars on the side.”

“For the record, the ones I see on the side approached me for more without you as the middle man. I never sought out for more from them.”

“And somehow they convinced you to cut me out instead of saying no. I’m asking again… Are you happy?”

“Before they started asking me for more, yes.”

“And now?”

“I still enjoy working for you. You attract great clients.”

“That’s only because I managed to put together the kind of people they’re looking for and are willing to pay the fee. It’s not a privilege for them. It’s a luxury.”

“Sometimes, they think it’s a privilege,” Steve countered.

“I’m well aware of what kind of arrangement Atley wants,” Natasha grumbled. “He’s not getting it, not at the cost of the other clients who enjoy what you provide them.”

“Regardless of the money he’s willing to shell out?”

“I do have some scruples,” she said wryly. “I can be hard, but I’m not cruel. I look out for my boys and girls as best I can.”

“So, I’m still one of your boys?”

“You can be a pain in my ass sometimes. But yes, you’re still one of my boys. However, the freelancing has to stop if you still want to work for me. Let me know who’s been cutting me out, and I will set them straight as to who you actually work for.”

Steve thought for a moment, relieved he wasn’t being kicked to the curb but not sure about stopping the flow of extra cash. “Can I be a pain in the ass for a moment?”

She rolled her eyes and smiled. “Fine, let’s get it out of the way. What is it?”

“If I stop the freelancing, can I get a 70/30 split?”

Natasha raised a skeptical eyebrow at him. “Nice try. You know that’s not going to happen. You know 50/50 is the cut. All the clients pay good money, and you’ve done well for yourself.”

Steve shrugged his shoulders. “I had to try. There’s only one I like to keep, though. Amanda.”

“We’ll discuss her later,” Natasha offered. “I know how fond she is of you. But we have other business to discuss. How is your Spanish coming along?”

“Muy bien, señorita Romanoff,” Steve replied confidently. “Estaré listo cuando la Señora Alvarado llegue a Los Ángeles.”

Natasha nodded her approval. “Bien hecho, Esteban. Ella es muy importante. Ella entiende un poco de inglés pero se siente más cómoda hablando en español. This will be a good payday for you. It should be relatively easy. Entertain her. Show her around the tourist traps and non-tourist traps. It will be her first time visiting America. Let’s make it memorable for her.”

• • • • •

After his visit with Natasha, Steve was in the mood for a quick drink and then spend the rest of the evening working on a drawing he had been putting off for a couple of months. Life had gotten in the way, and the itch to create art had all but disappeared. Lately, the itch could be felt in the back of his mind, and it was growing stronger. 

He arrived back to his place in Playa del Rey and walked the short distance to the local Mexican restaurant and bar. He wasn’t sure if the food was authentically Mexican, but the bar was well stocked, so it became his local watering hole when he wasn’t satisfying someone’s sexual needs or just being their companion.

The bar’s happy hour was winding down when Steve arrived. The hostess recognized him, waving a hello as he wandered over to the bar and seated himself on a barstool. The bright and bouncy Mexican music that had defined happy hour transitioned to something more melodic and family-friendly. He ordered a bottle of Pacifico. 

After taking his first sip from the bottle, he looked around the bar to see what made up the evening’s patrons. His eyes landed on a man sitting alone at the other end of the bar, nursing something that looked like whisky. 

The man’s dark caramel brown hair, strong jawline and cheekbones that could cut his hands open were features that pressed all of Steve’s buttons when it came to physical attributes he found attractive in men and women. Steve had never seen the man in the neighborhood before.

He wondered if he was just visiting or new to the area. 

He watched the handsome stranger for fifteen minutes, which was enough time to empty his bottle. It didn’t seem that the man was waiting for someone to meet up with him. He seemed to be in his own little world, contemplating. Steve was so curious, so drawn to him.

Steve slid off the barstool and walked over to the man and the bartender who happened to be standing before him, putting away glasses that just came out of the dishwasher.

He caught the bartender’s attention. “Hey, Joey, could I have another one, please?”

“Sure thing, Steve. I’ll be back in a minute.” He took the empty bottle and left.

Steve slid onto the stool next to the man nursing his whisky. “Hey, that looks like a double shot of whisky. Bad day?”

“You could say that,” the man replied, not looking up at Steve.

“Are you new to the area? I haven’t seen you around here before.”

The man turned to look at Steve. There was a subtle look of surprise on his face. “Oh, I usually don’t come here.” His clear grey eyes were striking. 

“Where are you from if you usually don’t come here?”

“Pacific Palisades. It’s really not that far, but sometimes you don’t want to hang around your neighborhood.”

“Yeah, I hear ya. I like driving along the highway to clear my head. I find myself in Malibu a lot.”

“You’re around from here?”

“Yeah, I live a couple of blocks from here.” He extended his hand out to shake the man’s hand. “I’m Steve, by the way.”

“Convenient. I’m James,” the man replied, reaching out for his hand.

Steve could tell the hand he was shaking didn’t belong to someone who did heavy labor. No calluses. It wasn’t a soft hand, but his skin was soft to the touch. The handshake was firm and confident until he realized the two of them had not released each other’s hand yet. James’ eyes widened slightly when he came to the same conclusion. Bashfully, he released his grip but not before allowing his fingers to lightly trace the inside of Steve’s palm as he pulled away.

The unexpected caress had Steve inhale a short, quick breath, holding for a couple of seconds before exhaling. He stared as James took a sip of his drink. He watched as his Adam’s apple moved as he swallowed.

Blinking a couple of times to shake himself into the present, Steve continued on with the conversation. 

“Is that whisky you’re drinking, or is it something else? Whisky, bourbon, rye… they all look the same to me.”

James smiled. “It is actually scotch. Macallan 12. It’s pretty smooth. Do you drink scotch?”

“I’m more of a beer drinker,” Steve answered, raising a fresh, cold bottle of Pacifico in front of his face. “But I do like Lagavulin.”

“So, not much of a wine drinker, then?”

“With meals, sure. Outside of that? It’s not my poison of choice.”

“May I ask what you do for a living?”

Steve paused for a moment.

James noticed and backtracked. “If it’s something you don’t want to discuss, you don’t have to answer. I don’t mind if you want it to remain a mystery.” 

Steve smiled. “It’s not that I don’t want to disclose what I do, it’s just something nobody really asks me about. I’m usually too busy being charming for them to think of throwing that question at me.”

“Maybe you need to be more charming with me,” James commented with a touch of cheekiness.

Steve raised his eyebrows at the challenge. “I guess I’ll have to… but I’ll answer your question, first. I’ve done a number of things. I used to be a dancer.”

James smirked and leaned in a little closer. “What kind of dancer?”

“What kind of dancer do you think I would have been?”

“The kind that either sported a G-string or a cock ring at the end of his routine?”

Steve’s cheek turned deep pink. “Got it in one guess,” he answered, tipping his bottle towards James who clinked his glass against it. “I did both. It was during my university days back in New York. It was a great way to pay my way through college.”

“What did you major in?”

“Art and art history. Painting and drawing are my mediums of choice.”

James nodded his approval. “Okay, so you did your stint as a ‘dancer.’ What do you do now?”

“I’m an art consultant. I travel with clients around the world, helping them find pieces for their private collections.”

“I don’t know much about the art part, but the travelling sounds fun,” James mused.

“And what about you?” Steve asked. “What pays your bills?”

“I’m just a doctor.”

“You’re awfully modest,” Steve smiled. “General practitioner?”

“General surgeon.”

“Okay, I’m impressed. You must have good hands.”

James gave him a look that conveyed ‘I can’t believe you said that.’

Steve shrugged his shoulders. “I couldn’t help myself.”

The easy banter continued between Steve and James for the next hour. And as time progressed, they sat closer to each other, slowly invading each other’s personal space. Steve could smell the fading cologne James had slapped on at the beginning of the day. But he could also smell the man’s essence. Musk with a mix of sun, earth, and scotch. 

Steve wanted nothing more than to take James home and spend the night making him beg, moan, and come as many times as he could handle. He wanted to give him a night to remember. And maybe if he were lucky, there would be more nights to remember. He leaned in and spoke into James’ ear.

“Would you like to come back to my place?”

James swallowed thickly. “I don’t know.”

“But you want to.”

“Yes.”

“Do you have to work tomorrow?”

“No. I’ve taken some time off. The past couple of years has been busy. I was with Surgeons for a Better Future doing humanitarian work.”

“Why the hesitation then?” Steve could see James was having an internal struggle. He didn’t want to chase him away, but his gut told him he wouldn’t be the one to chase him away. Whatever was swimming in James’ mind would push him to do it.

“I’ve never done this before,” James finally admitted.

“What do you mean?” Steve said softly. “You’ve never been propositioned before?”

“No, not that. It’s just… been awhile. The life of a doctor can make you a little insular if you’re not careful.”

“You’re not isolated,” Steve noted. “You’re right here in front of me. And I wanna take you home with me so I can make love to you.”

James chuckled, pushing him with his shoulder. “That sounds so fucking cheesy.”

Steve smiled, leaned back towards James, and spoke into his ear. “Okay, how about I want to take you home because I want to fuck the living daylights out of you.” He voiced dripped with desire. “Because you are the most stunning human being I’ve ever met. And because I can’t help myself. I need to touch you. I need to taste you.”

Leaning back, James gazed at him, eyes heavy with desire, licking his lips before he poured the remaining scotch down his throat.

“Okay, that wasn’t cheesy at all,” James commented, placing the glass back on the bar.

• • • • •

Steve ushered James into his condo. “Welcome to my humble home.” 

James cautiously looked around. The light grey walls were the perfect backdrop for the art he displayed. One piece, framed and matted with a contemporary style thick black metal frame, caught his eye. He walked up to it for a closer inspection. 

His eyes followed the lines of the nude figure drawn on 18x24 off-white cotton-fiber paper. The body language suggested a kind of melancholy emanating out of the forlorn man. James glanced at the bottom right corner of the drawing. Steve’s signature lay claim to the space.

“When did you draw this?” James asked, turning to take in Steve’s profile.

“Final year in college. It was one of the last pieces I had to create for my portfolio before I could graduate. It’s my favourite piece. Everything else is still sitting in my portfolio case.”

“Everything you have up on the walls, are they your creations?”

Steve looked around the open space that included both the living and dining areas. “Yeah, they are. Why buy art when you can create your own, right?”

“As an art consultant, you don’t suggest your own work to a client as something they could add to their collection?”

Steve’s gaze landed on James. “That’s a conflict of interest as far as I’m concerned. It’s not about me. It’s about them and what they want. I always find their personal aesthetics interesting, and it always informs what and why I like or don’t like something, and I end up wanting to create something for myself.”

“Pragmatic answer,” James said, maintaining his gaze.

“Yet, I’m not always pragmatic.”

“So, I’m not here for pragmatic reasons, then.”

Steve stepped into James’ personal space, his hand slipping around to the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair. James closed his eyes, relishing the touch. “Purely selfish reasons,” he answered. “But you’re here for the same reasons, too.”

“So, we’re really not altruistic human beings, then.”

Steve chuckled. “I suppose one could put it that way.”

James placed his hands on Steve’s hips, hooking his thumbs into the belt loops and flexing his fingers into the denim of his jeans.

Steve drew closer until they were sharing the same air. “Are you sure? If you want to back out now, I’ll understand.”

“You won’t like it if I do,” James countered.

“Doesn’t matter. It’s about you, and I’ll understand.” Steve nosed James’ jawline and cheek.

“You want me enough to let me walk away?” he breathed.

“Yeah. If you can’t go through with it, we stop. Right now. I won’t hate you.” Steve nipped at his ear lobe, eliciting a moan from the man. James’ fingers dug into Steve’s waist.

“Don’t stop,” James asked, instinctively pushing his hips against Steve. “I’m not walking away.”

Steve groaned into his shoulder. “How do you want me to take you?”

“Doesn’t matter. Surprise me,” James growled, his fingers scraping the skin underneath the shirt, moving up along the muscled back until one hand rested on the nape and the other rested on a shoulder. “Show me everything you want to do to me.”

“Can’t do everything in one night. Need more than a night if you’ll let me,” Steve bargained.

“I would be open to negotiating.” James ran his fingers through Steve’s hair before pulling him in for their first kiss.

James’ lips were soft, pliant, and hungry. Steve could still taste the scotch when he swiped his tongue into his mouth. Pulling him flush against his chest, his lips peppered kisses and licks along Jame’s jawline and down the side of his neck. He nestled into the area where the neck and shoulder connected, mouthing the sensitive skin. James gasped at the sensation. 

Suckling gently, James whimpered, further encouraging Steve to be bolder with his actions. Running his hand down between their bodies, Steve paused at the bulging erection in James’ pants, giving it a squeeze. He sucked harder, trying to fulfill the need to mark James. He was rewarded with a desperate moan. For a moment, Steve wondered why they weren’t naked yet.

“Let’s take this to bed,” Steve suggested lowly as he looked into James’ eyes. “We gotta get out of these clothes.”

“Bed is good,” he rasped, kissing Steve. “Naked is good, too.” He kissed him again before he was led by the hand into Steve’s bedroom. Both men wasted no time divesting themselves of their shirts. Steve placed his hand on James’ wrist before he could start undoing the button and fly of his pants. 

“Let me,” he requested. James acquiesced.

His eyes were locked with Steve’s as he felt the man’s fingers unbutton his pants. Steve leaned in for a chaste kiss before dropping to his knees. 

Hooking his fingers around the waist of the pants, Steve tugged them down at a pace far too slow for James’ liking. But the man didn’t dare say anything. He was bewitched by the sight of the dark blond man and his mouth inches away from his cock. Steve maintained eye contact as the pants slid down over his thighs and calves to pool at his feet. 

James’ cock, hopelessly hard, obscenely tented the underwear separating it from Steve’s mouth. Steve pressed his cheek against it before giving his head a slight turn, allowing himself to mouth the length through the cotton barrier. James hissed and groaned, his hips nudging against Steve until a pair of hands gripped his hips, preventing them from moving.

Capturing some of the fabric between his teeth, Steve tugged at the boxer briefs until the tip peeked out, shiny and dripping with pre-cum. He licked the underside of his cock, kissing the tip when he reached it. James gasped. Steve’s tongue swirled and pressed against the tip before wrapping his lips around the head and suckling it. James swore through gritted teeth, gripping Steve’s shoulders, fighting to keep his knees from weakening and collapsing. 

Pulling the underwear down to pool along with the pants, Steve inched more of James’ cock into his mouth. His fingers skated back up his legs, digging them into the firm, bulbous flesh of James’ ass. He inched closer to the base of his cock until he buried his nose in the short, thick hair.

James swallowed hard at the sight of his cock engulfed by Steve’s mouth. He grasped fistsful of Steve’s hair but didn’t tug on them. James wanted to cry out,but no sound came. He felt the tip of his cock push into the man’s throat. It tightened momentarily around him, leaving his mind blank. He watched as Steve used his cock to fuck his throat. His body stiffened at the sensation, prompting him to howl.

“Fuck… ya gotta stop,” James begged, not wanting to pull on Steve’s hair. “Please, please, please,” he muttered. “I’m gonna come… oh, god.”

Steve hummed his understanding before swallowing his cock to the hilt and then hollowing his cheeks as he slowly pulled off. A spit string connecting the two men caught the light of the setting sun, shimmering before it broke. He stood up and kissed him.

“You’ve got a bit of a hair-trigger, James,” he noted with a smile.

James’ expression turned to one of embarrassment. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I told you it’s been a while.”

“That’s alright. We’re gonna get you off first because I need you to last, okay?”

James nodded, accepting Steve’s hand on his elbow as he stepped out of the puddle of clothes. They kissed eagerly as Steve guided him towards the bed. Both men stopped once the backs of James’ knees bumped against the bed. Without thinking, James landed on his back. Steve followed, landing with hands and knees on either side of him. He noticed Steve was still wearing his jeans.

“Are you planning to take those off?” he asked, looking pointedly at the jeans.

Steve grinned at him, licking his lips. “They’ll come off eventually. I’m more concerned with getting you off. Come when you need to. You don’t need my permission. And don’t hold back. We’re just releasing a little pressure. That’s all. We’ve got all night.”

Steve nuzzled the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent, ignoring how painfully hard he was becoming in the confines of his jeans. Making his way to the left nipple, he flicked at the nub with his tongue, eliciting a groan from James. He reached over to play with the right one, fingers teasing with their touch. He felt James tangle his fingers in his hair again. He began tugging at his hair. 

Steve hummed, enjoying the sensation. He couldn’t get enough of James and the noises he made. Yeah, he was a greedy son of a bitch. 

Once James allowed himself to let go, he was nothing but hungry. Starved might be the word. Touch starved. Sex-starved. He couldn’t figure out why someone who looked like James would be lacking attention. His explanation of living the life of a doctor didn’t entirely wash with him. He had several clients who were doctors from various medical fields.

With his teeth, Steve gently tugged at the nipple. James gasped and whined. He licked and played with it until it was tinted dark pink and tender before moving over to the right one to apply the same ministrations. This time, he started stroking James’ cock, which had not softened much since it was last in his mouth. James growled long and low, parting his legs to allow Steve more access. It didn’t take much for the blood to accumulate in the tissue and thicken in his hands. 

After he was done tending to the right nipple, Steve trailed kisses down James’ chest, dipping his tongue into his belly button. He raised his head to find James staring heatedly at him, nothing but black pushing out the grey in his eyes.

Keeping his eyes locked on James, Steve dropped kisses below his belly button, on his way down to his cock. Starting from the base, he ran his tongue up along one side of the shaft, stopping at the tip to taste the pre-cum. Earthy with a hint of sweet. 

Steve groaned. “God, do you know how good you taste?” James shook his head. “Sweetheart, you have no idea. I could suck your cock all day if you’d let me. Fuck. When you come, I’m gonna swallow everything you give me. Every last drop, alright?”

James loved the idea of coming down Steve’s throat. He squirmed, raising his hips at him, hinting he wanted him to continue. 

The man grinned and went back to the business of making him come.

James watched Steve run his tongue down the other side of his shaft before he enveloped it with his mouth. He watched his cock moved in and out of Steve’s mouth. James felt Steve’s tongue twirl around and tickle the tip of his cock as he gently squeezed his balls. Growling gently, he grabbed a fistful of the bedsheets, begging Steve for more.

“Make me come. I wanna come,” he pleaded. “Fuck, fuck, fuck… please.”

Feeling as frantic as James, Steve undid the fly of his jeans and began palming himself as he continued going down on the man. 

The closer James was to having his orgasm, the more vocal he became. The more vocal he became, the more determined and turned on Steve became. It wasn’t long before he yanked his jeans down far enough to free his cock, heavy and oozing with copious amounts of pre-cum and stroked it in earnest. James writhed, fighting to not jerk his hips against Steve’s mouth. 

Steve slowed his rhythm until he was sucking hard in long pulls of James’ cock. He felt James stiffen before he shouted and came into his mouth and down his throat. With four or five hard jerks, Steve followed, groaning with James’ cock still in his mouth. He spilled into his hand, dripping onto the bedsheets. 

Steve pushed his jeans off and crawled over James’ soft and pliant body. He lowered himself on top of him, cradling his face to kiss him. James groaned into the kiss, tasting himself on Steve’s lips and tongue. Tangling his calves with Steve’s, James slowly deepened the kiss.

After a couple of minutes, they parted, staring into each other’s eyes.

“Call me Bucky,” he said softly.

“So, James isn’t your name?” Steve asked, brushing Bucky’s hair off his damp forehead.

“It is my name,” Bucky clarified, caressing Steve’s jawline with his finger. “But those who really know me, or who I want to really get to know better, call me Bucky. It’s short for Buchanan, which is my middle name.”

“Bucky… I like it. A lot,” Steve smiled. “Thank you for letting me call you by your nickname.”

“That was amazing, by the way,” Bucky sighed. “But then, it’s been a while so you might want to take my assessment with a grain of salt.”

Steve chuckled. “I’m just happy I was able to take the edge off of you.”

“So, there’s more where that came from, right?”

“You bet. I said I was going to fuck the living daylights out of you. We’re just getting started.” Steve reached down to nose Bucky’s jawline.

“That was a warm-up?”

“Did it feel like one to you?”

“You definitely curled my toes. But if that’s the warm-up, I’m going to be in deep shit. How am I going to survive you?”

“I’m not that dangerous, Buck.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” he countered.

Steve paused. “I’m almost certain when I asked you to come back with me, I didn’t ask if you would spend the night. So, I’m asking now. Would you like to spend the night with me? I would love it if you could. If you don’t want to or can’t, I’ll understand.”

Bucky cradled Steve’s face, caressing the man’s lower lip with his thumb. “I would love to spend the night with you.”

• • • • •

Steve groaned at the morning light streaming in between the slats of the window blinds. He turned his head to discover the other half of the bed was empty. Propping himself up onto his elbows, he looked around with bleary eyes, looking for signs Bucky was still in the condo.

“Bucky?” he called out.

No answer.

He climbed out of bed to find Bucky’s clothes were gone. A small weight settled on his chest. Steve had wanted to make breakfast for Bucky, but now the opportunity was lost. He didn’t know where to begin if he wanted to find him. And he did want to find him. Pulling on a pair of sweatpants, he wandered into the kitchen. On the fridge door was a piece of paper with unfamiliar handwriting.

_I had to leave early. Sorry I didn’t say anything. I dug out your number from your phone. You need a passcode, by the way. Last night was fantastic. I promise to call you._

_— Bucky_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be posted this Monday.


	2. Trouble in mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve can't stop thinking about Bucky, wanting to find him and see him again. But first, he begrudgingly agrees to do a favor for Alexander Pierce and it turns to be something more than what he bargained for. But the end of the night goes in Steve's favor when he gets a phone call from Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Thank you for the comments for the first chapter :) And I appreciate the interest in this story. Thanks you to everyone who is reading it, has bookmarked it, subscribed to it, and is planning to binge read it after all the chapters are posted. I hope to keep you interested with each chapter.
> 
> WARNING: This chapter has mentions of implied past con-non situations and someone gets a well-deserved punch in the face.

Shirt discarded, bundled into a ball sitting in the corner along with his half-empty protein shake bottle, Steve panted as he attacked the black leather punching bag. The sound of grunting and leather gloves violently smacking against the bag filled the condominium’s gym. Beads of sweat trailed down his spine. Feet bounced lightly between punches. Steve picked up the pace until sweat literally flew off his damp skin. 

As quickly as he picked up the pace, he stopped just as abruptly, stilling the swinging motion of the punching bag while he caught his breath. The gym was quiet. Steve was the only one using it at the moment, and he liked it that way. It was one of the perks of working occasionally unpredictable hours. 

Steve had woken up at 5:30 in the morning, unable to continue sleeping. His mind and body still thrumming from being with Bucky two nights ago. He still had not heard back from him. He didn’t want to feel or behave like a lovesick schoolboy, yet here he was. Feeling and acting like one. He wandered down to the gym in hopes of tiring himself out so he could shower and crawl back to bed. 

It was now an hour and fifteen minutes later, and he was ready for a shower. Grabbing a clean towel and the gym’s bottle of disinfectant/cleaning solution, he wiped down the punching bag and wiped the sweat off the floor. Draping the boxing gloves over his left shoulder, Steve gathered up his t-shirt and bottle before leaving.

• • • • •

Hot water pelted his back as he stood under the shower. His upper back, shoulders, and arms ached from the impromptu sparring match with the punching bag. But it didn’t prevent his dick from having its own ideas about how Steve could relax.

It throbbed as Steve couldn’t help but think of Bucky again. His throat went dry as blood rushed to his cock. There was no way he could will it down or ignore it. With one hand braced against the shower wall, he stroked his cock, wishing it was Bucky’s hand instead of his own. 

Gripping his shaft a little tighter, he recalled the sounds Bucky made as Steve went down on him. It only got better when Steve fingered his hole using copious amounts of lube and saliva, opening him up until Bucky begged him to stop it and fuck him into the mattress. Even then, Steve refused simply because he couldn’t get enough of eating the man. It had been absolute torture for Bucky to be at the mercy of Steve and his need to experience the grey-eyed man as much as he could. 

When Steve had finally gotten around to putting on a condom and buried himself balls deep into Bucky, he had a moment where he told himself he couldn’t possibly live his life without this man. The heat surrounding him was perfect. Bucky babbling incoherently was perfect. Bucky’s reaction to everything Steve did was perfect. He never had a more instinctive, receptive and eager lover. 

Thinking about how hungrily Bucky wrapped his lips around his cock and how much he mewled while Steve fingered him at the same time, pushed Steve over the edge. Gasping for air, he marked the glass shower door with his cum. 

After the tension flowed out of his body, he angled the showerhead to wash away the evidence of his desire for Bucky, watching his cum swirl down the drain. Towelling himself off, Steve flopped back into bed, still thinking of Bucky and closed his eyes.

• • • • •

Standing barefoot in the kitchen a few hours later, wearing a freshly laundered pair of jeans and a navy blue t-shirt, Steve prepared lunch for one. 

Letting the pasta drain in the colander, Steve quickly stirred the warmed marinara sauce and meatballs. Giving the pasta a good toss, he added the pasta to the pan, coating it in sauce. After pouring it onto a plate, he grabbed a fork and a bottle of mineral water and sat out on the small balcony to eat his meal to enjoy the California summer sun and breeze.

Halfway through his meal, his mobile phone rang. Quickly picking it up, hoping it would be Bucky, Steve frowned when he read the caller ID. Alexander Pierce. He debated for a second whether or not to answer. He made himself answer the call.

“Hello.”

“Steven,” Pierce’s voice dripped with smugness. “So glad to have caught you. I have a favour to ask of you.”

“And what would that be?”

“I have a client who wants someone to entertain his wife tonight. It’s a last-minute request, and I don’t have anyone to spare.”

“Why call me? I don’t work for you anymore.”

“Yes, but I know you do a little extra on the side. Doesn’t Natasha pay you enough for your skillset?”

“Could you please leave her out of this?” Steve asked, irritatedly. “This has nothing to do with her.”

“Yes, you’re right, Steven,” Pierce acknowledged. “This request has nothing to do with her. I shouldn’t have mentioned her in the first place. My apologies.”

Steve knew Pierce was offering a weak mea culpa at best. 

“It’s a longtime client although I’ve never sent you to the Chamberlains,” Pierce continued. “He was always specific about the physical attributes of the men I sent their way. I informed him if I found someone for this evening, he had no say in who I sent, and the fee is doubled. That means you will get more. Mr. Chamberlain will pay your share in cash when you arrive there.” He paused. “So, how about it? It’s just one evening if you have nothing else scheduled tonight.”

“I should hang up on you,” Steve stated.

“So, why haven’t you done that yet?”

Steve thought for a moment. Why didn’t he just hang up on the man? Maybe it was some sense of not wanting to burn any bridges. And he didn’t want to think about it too much. Be polite, be professional. Don’t tell anyone to go fuck themselves just yet.

“I’m just being polite, sir.”

“Would you be polite enough to help an old boss out? I promise the money is good and you won’t have to do anything for me ever again. This will be the one, and only time I will ever ask you for a favor.”

Steve thought for a moment. “Fine. This will be the one and only time I do you a favor and whatever you negotiated for me, double it or else I won’t do it.” 

“I’m not sure I can do that,” Pierce admitted.

“That’s my price. I know how much you charge and what the cut is. Double my cut or go find someone else.”

There was silence on the other end of the line.

“Thank you so much, Steven. I’m sure the Chamberlains will be very appreciative. Let me give you some information. They live up in Laurel Canyon.”

Steve jotted down the time and the address of the Chamberlain home, quickly saying goodbye to the man afterwards. Placing the pen next to the half-eaten plate of pasta, Steve had lost some of his appetite. He had wanted to go back to the Mexican restaurant and bar this evening on the thinnest of hopes that Bucky would make an appearance there again. Now, he had a client he never wanted to begin with. He blew out a long breath and cursed himself.

• • • • •

Driving up to the Chamberlain residence, he surveyed the property. Immaculate groundskeeping. Lush vegetation. The house was streamlined moderne, something that never really appealed to Steve’s aesthetics. He always found the style and modern style, in general, to be too cold, too uninviting, too minimalist for his liking.

Parking his car behind the black Bentley and white Audi sitting in the Chamberlains’ curved driveway, Steve climbed the small set of stairs and rang the doorbell. A man, roughly Steve’s height, answered the door. He looked to be in his late fifties, white hair and a stocky build, wearing a dark grey and white pinstripe Oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“You must be Steve,” the man spoke. Steve nodded in the affirmative. “I’m Thomas Chamberlain,” he added.

Instead of offering to shake his hand or wait for Steve to say anything, he turned and walked away from the door, expecting him to close the door behind him and follow him into the house. Steve narrowed his eyes, wondering what he had gotten himself into.

Having caught up to Chamberlain, Steve initiated a conversation with the man.

“Mr. Pierce told me I’m here for your wife.”

“Yes, that is correct.” Chamberlain walked over to the bar to pour himself a shot of rye. “She’s in the bedroom waiting. Would you like a drink?”

“No, thank you. But there is a matter of payment before I start, sir.”

“Oh, yes. Of course,” Chamberlain acknowledged after taking a sip of his drink. He fished out an envelope from a shelf underneath the counter and handed it over to Steve. Ensuring that the amount was correct, Steve tucked the envelope into the inside pocket of his dark grey blazer.

“Which way to the bedroom?”

“I’ll show you. But before you meet my wife, did Mr. Pierce indicate what it is we want for this evening?”

“He only said I was to entertain your wife, sir.”

“Ah, apparently, he forgot to tell you… Yes, you are here — as Mr. Pierce indicated — to entertain my wife. But you are here to also entertain me.”

Steve paused. “I don’t do threesomes, sir,” he clarified. “Even if I did, the fee is higher and what you gave me won’t cover it.”

“I’m not asking for a threesome. I’m asking you to allow me to watch you fuck my wife.”

Steve stared at him for a moment. “So, that’s you’re fantasy.”

“It’s a predilection I have, and occasionally I like to indulge in,” he replied in a matter-of-fact tone. “She enjoys it, too.”

Steve wasn’t much of an exhibitionist. He didn’t care for orgies or anything involving more than himself and another person. That was his hard-line and nothing in the world would make him cross it. But having someone watch him have sex with another person blurred the line a bit. Even though Chamberlain said he didn’t want to participate, that he only wanted to watch, Steve couldn’t help feeling he was being coerced. And he didn’t like being tricked. He didn’t like people trying to change the rules of the game. Now, he found himself in this predicament.

Steve inhaled deeply before sharply exhaling his answer. “Fine. You get to watch.”

Chamberlain smiled. “Excellent. Just follow me, and I will introduce you to Beth. She’s looking forward to this.” Steve nodded, chewing on his lower lip when Chamberlain wasn’t looking.

They walked down a hallway leading to the bedroom. Upon entering, Steve noticed Chamberlain’s wife sitting quietly at the foot of the bed. She looked up, making eye contact with her husband first, then with Steve. She smiled at him, appearing to be shy.

She stood up as Chamberlain walked over to her and kissed her. He cupped her face, gently stroking her cheek. “Honey, this is Steve,” he said gesturing to him. “Steve, this is Beth.” He stepped away from his wife, allowing Steve to move in closer to introduce himself.

She took one look at him and could help but smile at him. “Nice to meet you,” she said quietly, she extended her hand towards Steve. He accepted it and kissed the top of her hand. 

“Lovely to meet you, Beth,” he smiled, putting his best charming self on display for her. “You are a beautiful woman. There aren’t too many women who look as enchanting as you.” 

A tinge of pink colored her cheeks as she looked down. “There’s no need to say that. You’re making me blush.” She spoke quietly as if she didn’t want her husband to hear her.

Beth appeared to be much younger than Chamberlain, but this was no May-December romance. The dark-haired woman was striking. Strong jawline. Beautiful cheekbones. Large brown eyes. A curvy figure. There was nothing delicate about her, yet her demeanor suggested otherwise.

“Go ahead,” Chamberlain encouraged. “Get on with it.”

Steve closed his eyes upon hearing the man’s cavalier attitude drip from his voice. Opening his eyes, he saw Beth looking up at him. There was something in her eyes that made it apparent she wasn’t in total agreement with her husband’s wishes. He cradled her face with both hands, slowly leaning in to kiss her. Soft lips met his. She kissed back tentatively, dropping her head afterwards. He leaned a little further in and whispered in her ear.

“Just pay attention to me, okay? Don’t listen to him,” he soothed. “It’s just the two of us. You and me.”

“Okay.” Her voice barely audible. “Kiss me again?”

Pulling her flush with his body, he kissed her again. This time, she kissed back with more intention, wrapping her arms around his neck. Trailing kisses along her jawline, he made his way down her throat, nuzzling and breathing in her scent. He listened to her sigh, slowly allowing herself to give in to whatever she was feeling with him.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he praised, rubbing small circles onto her lower back. “You smell so good, Beth. Remember, it’s just you and me. And no one else.” Steve went in for another kiss, hoping to relax her even more. And she did, a small moan escaping from her lips.

Chamberlain cleared his throat. “That’s enough. You can start removing her clothes.”

Steve and Beth stopped. He turned to glare at the older man. “I don’t recall agreeing to let you call the shots.”

“She’s my wife, and I gave you a lot of money,” he said with more than a hint of hostility in his voice. “I’m watching, and I’m telling you how you are to fuck my wife.”

Steve felt Beth stiffen at the words. He hadn’t bargained on dealing with someone as controlling, entitled, and disrespectful as Chamberlain. But considering he was one of Pierce’s longtime clients, he shouldn’t have been surprised by the kind of human beings his former boss was willing to take on as regular clients.

“This is for your wife’s benefit as much as it is for you, Mr. Chamberlain,” he stated evenly. “More so, I would say. I’m here to pleasure your wife, not you.”

Chamberlain remained silent for a moment, his expression unmoving.

“You are here for my indulgence,” Chamberlain stated carefully. “But yes, you’re here for my wife’s pleasure. So, I will stop giving you orders, but I reserve the right to make… suggestions. You have the option of ignoring what I say. But I would suggest not ignoring me too often.”

Steve involuntarily worked his jaw, thinking of a response that would keep him from deciding the night was a complete write-off and walk out the door. “Fine. And I reserve the right to ignore you completely.”

Chamberlain acquiesced by giving him a simple nod.

Steve turned to Beth again. “I’m sorry.”

She shook her head. “It’s alright. My husband is only looking out for my best interest.”

Steve raised an eyebrow at her. “I beg to differ.”

“Please, let’s not talk about him,” she asked, placing her hand on his chest. “Could we continue where we left off. It was nice.” She offered him a small smile.

“Of course,” he smiled gently, tilting her chin up to kiss her. She was a beautiful woman, and he was going to do his best to make her ignore the fact her husband was watching them.

They kissed for a minute before Steve started unbuttoning her sky blue cotton shirt. She returned the favor by doing the same with his cream-colored dress shirt. With the buttons undone, he made a move to start sliding her shirt off her shoulders. 

But before he touched it, she quickly clasped her shirt closed, unwilling to allow him to undress her further.

“Do you want to take the shirt off yourself?” he asked softly.

She shook her head. An expression of distress edging its way onto her face. The look on Beth’s face reminded him of his mother’s when he was a young child. He remembered seeing his mother’s face wear that same expression several times before she decided to whisk him away to a shelter. Away from his father. He never saw his father again. It wasn’t until he was much older that he realized what had been happening during his parents’ marriage.

“I won’t hurt you,” he said in a low voice. “I won’t let him hurt you. Could you show me what’s under the shirt? I know we just met, but could you let me see?”

She kept her gaze down. Tucking his fingers under her chin, he tipped her head back up to gaze into her eyes.

“Please trust me,” he said.

She searched his face, looking for something. 

“What’s taking you two so long?” Chamberlain asked with a raised voice. “I got better results from the others who were here before you.”

Beth noticed Steve’s jaw twitch in annoyance at her husband’s words. Taking a deep breath, she slid enough of her shirt off her shoulders to reveal bruises. Fresh ones sitting on top of older ones.

Steve scrutinized them for a moment. He looked at her. She looked back. Scared but feeling a little brave. Unwavering.

“You remind me of someone I once loved,” she said.

He had not expected her to make that statement. Not under these circumstances. That was it for Steve. He’d have enough of this farce, and it was time to hightail it out of there. 

“Button up your shirt, you’re coming with me,” he whispered.

“What?” she asked with hushed surprise. “I can’t leave.”

“Yes, you can.”

“What are you two discussing?” Chamberlain demanded.

Steve whipped around. “She has bruises.”

“She likes it rough,” the older man explained dismissively.

“That is not rough. I know rough. What she has on her arms is way over the line, and you know it.”

“Are you telling me I don’t know my own wife?”

“I’m telling you you’re a fucking asshole.” 

Beth placed her hand on Steve’s elbow. “Could we please go?”

“Yeah, sure,” Steve replied, still looking at Chamberlain.

“Where do you think you’re going, Beth?”

“Just walk out now, Beth,” Steve encouraged. “I’ll be right behind you.” 

Beth nodded, grabbing her tote bag and headed out of the bedroom, not daring to look at her husband.

“Beth, don’t you dare leave.” Chamberlain moved to follow her. Steve stood in between Chamberlain and his retreating wife. “Get out of my way,” he growled. “I’m going to have a long chat with your boss about this.”

“Go right ahead,” Steve challenged. “I won’t lose any sleep over what you have to say.”

Chamberlain attempted to walk around Steve, but he continued to stay in front of the man. Over Steve’s shoulder, he watched his wife turn the corner at the end of the hallway, towards the front door.

“Beth!” he shouted. 

In a fit of rage, he shoved Steve away. The shove didn’t do much in terms of knocking Steve onto his ass. Having failed that, Chamberlain threw a punch Steve easily evaded. Snarling, he made two more attempts at connecting his fist with Steve’s face before tackling him to the bedroom floor. The two men grunted as they landed on the floor. They struggled until Steve managed to free his hand and landed his fist squarely on Chamberlain’s jaw, stunning the man for a few seconds before his eyes closed.

Steve scrambled onto his feet, grabbing his blazer to pull out the envelope of money. He tossed it back at the unconscious man and walked out.

Any concerns about Beth vanishing before Steve had a chance to get her help, were alleviated when he saw her standing by her Audi, looking awkward as if she wasn’t quite sure what to do next.

Walking up to her, she asked: “What do I do now?”

“Do you have family in the city?”

“They’re in San Diego.”

“Let me take you to a hospital so someone can look at your injuries. Those bruises aren’t the only ones you have.”

“No… do I really need to go? I’ll just get a bus ticket for San Diego and leave.”

“Bus? Why don’t you take your car?” he asked, gesturing to the Audi.

“It’s registered under Thomas’ name. He’ll report it stolen.”

Steve thought for a moment. “Okay, let’s use my car, and I’ll take you to a women’s shelter. I know a place. They’ll take care of you and help you get to San Diego if that’s where you want to go.”

Beth nodded and followed him.

Once they were on the road and moving farther away from Chamberlain’s home, Beth spoke up.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. As soon as you’re safe and your husband can’t harm you anymore, you can thank me then.”

“He’s not the one who hurts me? Not directly.”

“I don’t understand.”

“The men he brings into the house… they’re the ones who hurt me. He would have told you to hurt me.”

“Why? Is he a sadist?”

“He’s angry.”

“At you?”

“At himself. He hasn’t… We haven’t...” She paused for a moment. “We haven’t been intimate for a while. He has a problem. I had asked him to see a doctor. He refused.”

Steve boggled at the implication.

“Why are you telling me this?” he asked. “I’m a guy. I would have thought you would have refused to talk to me.”

“You remind me of Mark.”

“Who’s Mark?”

“The man I would have married if he hadn’t died in Afghanistan.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. He died fifteen years ago.” 

A minute passed before she spoke again. “You and Mark have the same eyes.”

• • • • •

It was close to midnight when Steve stepped back into his condo. Retrieving a bottle of beer from the fridge, he cracked it open and chugged half of it down his throat to rid himself of the sour taste in his mouth. He felt sick for having agreed to doing Pierce a ‘favor’. But he was glad he was able to help get Beth away from her husband. He would never regret doing that. 

He stepped out onto the balcony, plunking himself down on the reclining chaise lounge to stare out over the buildings at the ocean shimmering under the moonlight. He wanted nothing to do but sleep and forget the day ever happened. Maybe tomorrow he would go back to his watering hole, hoping for Bucky to appear again. 

He heard his mobile ring. Realizing he left it sitting on the kitchen counter, Steve groaned as he got up to find the phone and answer the call. Looking down at the screen, it glowed indicating it was an unknown number. He wondered who the hell was calling him at midnight. 

“Hello?”

“Steve? It’s Bucky.”

Surprised at hearing his voice, Steve stumbled for a second. “Yeah, hi. I didn’t know if you were actually going to call.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to disappear. I left you a note.”

“I know. I read it. Thanks for leaving it. And I actually added a passcode.”

Bucky chuckled. “Good. Next time it won’t be so easy for me to poke around your phone.”

“You weren’t poking around, were you?”

“Just enough to find your number and write it down. I know it’s midnight. Were you sleeping or about to go to sleep? Maybe I should call you tomorrow?”

“No, it’s alright.” Steve blew out a long audible breath. “It was a long day. I’m tired, but I can’t really get to sleep yet.” He wandered back out onto the balcony again.

“So… are you in bed?”

“No, I’m out on my balcony. Does it matter that I’m not in bed, right now?” Steve teased.

“Nah, it’s fine. I was wondering what you’re doing right now, aside from talking to me.”

“Where are you? What are you doing right now, aside from talking to me?” Steve smiled softly.

“In the backyard, looking at the moon.”

“Good. We’re both looking at the moon. What do you see?”

“Stars,” Bucky replied. “It’s not bad where I am. I can still see them without the city lights drowning them out. How about you?”

“I see a few stars. Not a lot. But I can see the ocean and the way the moonlight reflects off the water. Sometimes, I think nighttime is more beautiful than daytime.”

“I enjoyed being with you,” Bucky confessed. “It was amazing. I want to see you again.”

Steve smiled at the words. “I loved being with you. You were pretty amazing, yourself. And yeah, I’d love to see you again. But I’d love to get to know you better. Maybe dinner?” 

“Sure,” Bucky replied eagerly. “Back at the Mexican place? I don’t need to go anywhere fancy.”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, that would be great. But are you sure you want to go there? I haven’t tried the food yet. I only go there to drink.” 

“Why not?” Steve could hear the smile in Bucky’s voice. “Did you have a day in mind? I’d have to check my schedule first before I can confirm anything.”

“Well, not tomorrow because I have somewhere I have to be… Is the following evening good?”

“It sounds alright. Just hang on one sec, I’m just going to check the phone calendar.” Bucky bit his lower lip as he zipped through the app to see if there were any events he had been scheduled to attend.

He smiled.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m free. Tell me what time and I’ll see you at the restaurant.”

“Great! Uhm, seven o’clock sound okay?”

“Yes! Sounds, great. I’ll see you then. Goodnight.”

“Absolutely. I can’t wait to see you again, Buck. Sleep well.”

After ending the call, Bucky glanced at his phone and smiled. He hadn’t been this enamoured of anyone in a long time. It made him warm all over. A far cry from how he had been feeling for the last several years.

“James?” a voice called out.

He sighed, pulling out another cigarette to light it. She walked out onto the patio.

“James, did you hear me?” the dark-haired woman asked.

Bucky turned around to face her. “I’m sorry, Mel. I didn’t hear you. I was just thinking. Was there something you wanted to ask me?” He raised the whisky glass to his lips.

“No, nothing. I was wondering why you haven’t gone to sleep yet. We have a big day tomorrow. The barbecue and then the fundraising dinner.”

“You are the one with the big day,” Bucky clarified. “I’m just arm candy. Everyone will be there to see you, not me.”

“But, you’re my husband. There is an expectation that we appear together for these events.”

“You know I don’t care about that shit.”

Mel sighed. “I know you don’t care, but I’m making a run for congress, so you have to make an appearance every now and then. Your father was insistent about tomorrow. Look, I don’t want to argue with you. Just… finish your drink and cigarette and get some sleep, please.” She turned and walked away without waiting for him to respond.

“Don’t worry. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he called out.

Taking a deep drag of his cigarette, his thoughts turned back to Steve. His mind went back to the memory of Steve’s skin against his skin. The memory of Steve’s skilled hands, tongue, and mouth all over his body made him shudder. He emptied the whisky glass down his throat and walked back to his bedroom, the one he did not share with his wife to jerk himself, thinking about Steve until he covered his hand in cum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter is scheduled to be posted on Wednesday :)


	3. We could be perfect strangers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Steve and Pierce have words regarding Thomas Chamberlain. Bucky and his father have an argument. Steve and Bucky meet again under interesting circumstances which leads to certain truths being revealed. This results in an important conversation for both men.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who left comments and showed interest in this story. It is greatly appreciated :)

Walking along West Washington Boulevard in Marina del Rey the next morning, Steve didn’t particularly care for the fact he had an impromptu lunch meeting with Pierce. The fact the man agreed to meet Steve at a location of his choosing was the only thing that made him feel like he had some control over this meeting.

Pierce made it clear in the early morning phone call there was someone they needed to discuss. Thomas Chamberlain.

Steve didn’t think his life was in danger. Pierce just sounded irritated at best. He had never seen Pierce lose his shit. Yet. But he couldn’t brush that thought aside without talking to the man first. Dressed in ripped jeans, sneakers, white t-shirt, and a New York Mets ball cap, he made his way to the outdoor cafe. 

He quickly spotted Pierce sitting in the shaded part of the cafe, reading the _Los Angeles Times_ newspaper. Pierce wore grey linen trousers with a white short-sleeve dress shirt. That was about as dressed down as the man would get. He was all about leaving good impressions and the occasional power suit.

Pierce finally looked up from his newspaper when Steve sat in the chair across from him.

“Interesting location for a meeting,” Pierce said dryly. “There are more upscale places you could have picked.”

“I know,” Steve replied. “But I didn’t feel like dressing up today.” He paused. “Have you ordered anything yet? The cornbread french toast is excellent. So are the red velvet pancakes with white chocolate chips. But if you don’t have a sweet tooth, the salmon scramble is excellent, as well.”

“Thank you for the recommendations, but I’ll stick with my expresso,” Pierce replied testily.

A server walked up to their table. “Hey, Steve. Good seeing you here. It’s been a while.”

“Yeah, I’ve been busy, Trish. How’s your mom?”

“She’s doing good. The kids love her art classes. And she wants to talk to you about a side project that I know absolutely nothing about.”

“Sure, thing. I’ll give her a call later today.”

“Awesome,” Trish enthused. “Now, what would you like?”

“I’ll have coffee and the cornbread french toast and a side of chicken apple sausage, please.”

“Coming right up,” she smiled.

Steve watched the young woman walk away until she was out of earshot before continuing the conversation with Pierce.

“So,” Steve began. “Obviously, you spoke with Mr. Chamberlain.”

“Yes, I did,” he replied tersely, flicking the newspaper for emphasis. “He woke me up at five this morning to yell at me about you. This was a straight-forward job, and you blew it by punching him and taking off with his wife.”

“She is being abused by him.”

“That’s none of our business.”

Steve stared at Pierce for a moment. “If you had any fucking shred of decency, you would know that kind behaviour can’t be condoned.”

“He is a client.”

“Fuck that. He is a bad trick. Is money really that much more important to you than a person’s life?”

“I run a business. Not an intervention. And when did you start having scruples? You never had that when you worked for me?”

Trish returned with Steve’s coffee. “Your french toast should be ready in about ten minutes.”

Steve smiled at her. “Thanks. Much appreciated.”

Steve gave Pierce a steely look. “You have ten minutes to finish up this meeting. I’d like to eat my breakfast in peace. And something tells me it won’t take you ten minutes to say what you have to say to me.”

Pierce folded up his paper, placing it on the table next to his espresso. 

“You need to watch your mouth and that attitude of yours,” he warned. “You must be a handful for Natasha. You might still bring in a sizeable amount of money to her coffers, but you’ll eventually be replaced. She and her clients will eventually toss you aside for someone younger and less of a problem. Someone who will do as he’s told.”

“While I welcome your concern,” Steve responded calmly. “I’m not worried about my future.”

Pierce got up from his seat, tucked the newspaper under his arm. “You should be.” 

• • • • •

Bucky was bored out of his mind.

At least, the food for the barbecue was pretty good. He indulged in the beef ribs and a bowl of cheese grits. Now, with a bottle of mineral water in hand, Bucky watched Melanie mingle with supporters, discussing policies with interested constituents. And all he could think of was Steve and how badly he didn’t want to be there, despite the excellent food.

He spied his father in the crowd, approaching him. George Barnes, one of two long-standing Democratic senators for California. His father walked up to him with his usual megawatt smile he always had on when he was out in public.

“What’s with the dour look, son?” he asked. “You should look a little more pleasant. You need to put on a smile. People will start to think you don’t want to be here supporting your wife.”

“I’m just tired,” Bucky lied.

His father leaned in, lowering his voice so no one else but Bucky could hear. “Well, maybe you shouldn’t be spending so much time at bars picking up men.”

Bucky turned his head to look at his father. “Excuse me?”

“You were at a bar in Playa del Rey three nights ago. You met someone, and you left with him.”

A moment of panic coursed through Bucky. “Did you have me followed?”

“A word of advice – you need to keep it in your pants, son,” his father continued. “Melanie’s political star is starting to rise, and it is in your best interest and hers if you curbed your tendencies and avoided humiliating her.”

His father’s patronizing tone grated on Bucky. It was a reminder that he was trapped in a marriage he never wanted. It was a reminder of the painful truth that you could choose your friends, but you couldn’t choose your biological family.

“If I curbed my tendencies? I have no intention of humiliating my wife,” Bucky said through gritted teeth. “She’s not interested in what I do when I’m not with her. Just like I couldn’t give a shit what she does when she’s not with me. In fact, you’re not worried about me embarrassing Mel. You don’t want me embarrassing you.”

George’s face began to pinken. “Do not use that tone with me. I am suggesting that you are leaving your wife open to scandal if you continue to behave in an unsavory manner.”

“I am not behaving in an unsavory manner,” Bucky said pointedly. “I will continue to see whoever I want to see.”

“You are not honoring your marriage vows, James.”

“The marriage is a joke, and you know it,” Bucky bit back.

“If you continue to see whoever you picked up at that bar, there are going to be consequences.”

Bucky shook his head. “For who? For me? For Mel? Or for the person I’m seeing? Don’t tell me how I should conduct myself.”

“You two look rather intense,” Melanie commented, as she walked up to father and son, giving Bucky a kiss on the cheek. The intense stares continued. “If I’m interrupting something, just say so, and I’ll come back in a few minutes,” she offered.

“No, you didn’t interrupt anything, Mel,” Bucky replied smoothly. “Dad and I were just egging each other on about baseball. He thinks the Dodgers have a good chance. But I told him the Yankees are going to take the World Series this year. 

George chuckled lowly. “Over my dead body, son. Over my dead body… Anyway, I should mingle a little more before I have to go. Melanie, I’ll talk to you later. We need to talk strategy for this evening.”

“Sure, that would be great,” Melanie replied.

George nodded. Then he looked at Bucky. “James.”

Bucky offered a thin-lipped smile. “Dad.”

• • • • •

“You look quite dashing in that suit, Steven.” She reached up to straighten his burgundy tie. “Yes, navy looks good on you. Brings out your eyes.”

“Thank you, Margaret,” Steve replied. “You look stunning as usual. I’m sure someone will want your phone number.”

Margaret waved him away. “Don’t be silly,” she said in her English lilt. “We’re just going to a gala dinner, not to a nightclub which I’m too old for anyway. ”

Steve grinned. “You’re only as old as you feel. I doubt that you’re old enough to be my mother.”

“Good lord, I hope not. I’m old enough to be your young-ish aunt,” she replied. “I will forever be thirty-five. But I never feel like that when I go to these things. I feel more like a hundred-years-old by the time it’s all said and done.”

“Then why are we going to this one?”

“Because it’s for an old friend. His daughter-in-law is throwing her hat into the political ring. She’s running to be the congressional representative for this district, and I said I would be there to support her. She is a lovely girl. She has the potential to do great things.”

“What’s her name?”

“Melanie Wilton-Barnes.”

“So, she has your vote?”

“Yes, she does. I don’t go to these things unless I have every intention of supporting the candidate,” she said, standing in front of the full-length mirror in her bedroom, touching up her red lipstick.

“And thank you for agreeing to be my date for this dinner, Steven.” She placed the lipstick back in her purse. “I’m sure you have better things to do than attend a boring political fundraiser. But with Angie away dealing with business halfway around the world, I would have been hard-pressed to attend this on my own.”

“I enjoy your company, Peggy,” Steve admitted. “You’re only in need of my companionship and nothing else.”

“Yes, I guess it would be a break from what you usually have to do,” she said, walking out of the bedroom and down the hall, with Steve following close behind. “I envy your stamina.”

“It’s not always about sex, Peggy, and you know it. Stop teasing me,” he smiled.

“You’re fun to tease. You don’t come across as taking things seriously, but I know there’s a brain in that pretty head of yours.”

“And what do you think my brain is thinking about now?” he asked, offering her his arm as they headed out the door to his car.

“Hmmm, I think your brain is wondering how scrumptious the rubber chicken dinner will be tonight.”

• • • • •

Steve played with his dessert of crème brûlée as the talking heads spoke before Wilton-Barnes would be introduced and give her speech to the $500-per-plate dinner guests. He had tuned out the proceedings the minute someone stepped up to the microphone to capture the guests’ attentions.

Margaret listened to every word spoken, and her eyes had yet to glaze over. For Steve, it was all white noise. He glanced at her after she nudged him with her elbow. She leaned in to speak into his ear.

“Bored already?” she asked.

“I told you I’m not very good with political chitchat.”

“This isn’t exactly chitchat, Steven.” She paused. “You really are not interested in politics, are you?” The tone of Margaret’s voice was not of indignance. It was one of genuine curiosity.

“Not really. I know enough that politics is a rough game. Not everyone plays by the rules. You’re always looking for the edge to gain the voter’s trust and support. More often than not, if you can’t punch a hole in your opponent’s policies or solutions to an issue, you go below the belt. Distract the media and the voters with something salacious that will override the real issues at hand. Smokescreen everyone. The ones with good intentions get eaten alive or at least get the shit kicked out of them, figuratively speaking, by the ones who want power because they have an over-inflated sense of self-importance and grandeur.”

Margaret narrowed her eyes and smiled. “You do have a brain in the pretty head of yours.”

“Peggy…” 

“I’m just stating the obvious if anybody cared to engage you in intellectual discourse instead of thinking you’re only good for sexual intercourse.”

Steve rolled his eyes and smiled. “Go back to listening to the speeches, and I’ll go back to being bored.”

• • • • •

After finishing her speech, Melanie was met with warm applause. Buoyed by the success of the speech, she walked back to the table Bucky and his family occupied. He stood up to pull out the seat next to him, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

“You did great, Mel,” he said. His smile not quite reaching his eyes.

“Thanks,” she replied, with a small smile as she sat down on the chair, Bucky pulled out for her.

“No need to be modest about it, Melanie,” Winifred Barnes, Bucky’s mother, and George’s wife, chided. “You were absolutely wonderful. The crowd loved you.”

“Indeed, they did,” George added. “You’ve come a long way from when you started out as an intern for me when I was still in congress and thinking about making the move to become a senator. You had the drive back then, and it’s paying off now.”

“Thank you, but I wouldn’t have been to get where I am right now without the three of you. And Becca, too. I’m just sorry that she couldn’t make it tonight.” Melanie tentatively placed her hand on Bucky’s thigh. He glanced at her and continued eating his crème brûlée.

“We’re sorry, too,” Winifred responded. “That’s what happens when you have a three-month-old who gets colicky.”

“Thomas has been like that since he was born,” Bucky noted as he casually took Melanie’s hand off his thigh, gave it a kiss and let it go. She managed to not frown at the move. “I suggested to Becca that she try altering her diet while she’s breastfeeding him,” he commented. “I gave her a list of foods she could cut back to see if it would help. Do you know if she started working on the list yet?”

“She has,” Winifred answered. “She said it has been helping. He’s much better now, but he still gets a little fussy. But she’s still working through that list.”

“Good, good. I’m glad some of it is helping,” he said with relief. “I’ll give Becca a call tomorrow to see how things are going.”

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” George chimed in. “But, Melanie, in half an hour or so, you’ll have to do a little glad-handing, and that’ll be it for the evening.”

• • • • •

Standing in line with Margaret, waiting their turn to do the little meet-and-greet with Wilton-Barnes, Steve became restless again.

“Steve, would you stop fidgeting,” she admonished with affection. “How did your mother put up with all that energy?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “She let me play in the street until it was supper time. Then she probably put something in my milk so I would fall asleep after dinner. It might have been sweet vermouth,” he smiled.

She whacked him in the stomach with her clutch, making him grunt. “Smart arse,” she scolded quietly. “I’m sure your mother would grab you by the ear for saying that, young man.”

Steve chuckled. “I like getting you riled up.”

“And you are an incorrigible little shit. Now, do you know what to say when it’s time to meet Ms. Wilton-Barnes?”

“Outside of ‘it’s lovely to meet you,’ I have no idea. I didn’t hear anything anybody said this evening.”

“Good lord. For a smart guy, you insist on being some sort of man-child.”

“Only when it comes to politics, political fundraisers and glad-handing,” he winked.

“I’d put you over my knee and spank you, but you would enjoy it too much, methinks,” she said, giving him a calculated look. “Too bad, you’re not my type.”

Steve raised his right hand. “Guilty as charged. I promise to not embarrass you.”

“I suppose that will have to suffice. Now, do you know anything about the Barnes family?”

“Not really. I’ve heard George Barnes’ name in the news before but nothing more than that. I assume he has a wife and children. As for Ms. Wilton-Barnes, she’s not on my radar at all.”

“Well then,” Margaret started. “Here’s a condensed, quick and dirty rundown of the people you’re going to shake hands within mere minutes.”

• • • • •

Bucky wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep his smile plastered on his face. Meeting Melanie’s supporters were turning into one big blur for him. He couldn’t understand how Melanie did it. He never spoke to anyone for more than twenty seconds, but they were always the same comments like “She’s so fortunate to have you by her side” or “You two make such a lovely couple. I suppose children are still in the picture even though she’s running for congress, right?” or “I’m surprised you didn’t follow your father’s footsteps, but I guess being a doctor is just as noble, I suppose.”

That last remark really grated on him. But all he could do was smile and not try to slight the commenter in any way, shape, or form.

Melanie remembered names and faces without fear of forgetting. She had the qualities he lacked to follow in his father’s footsteps. He didn’t have teflon skin. And he was pretty fucking grateful about that. The public and media fishbowl was not where he wanted to live. But it was clear he was going to be tossed into that world whether he wanted it or not.

“Margaret!” Bucky heard George enthuse. “So lovely to see you. Thank you for coming.”

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, George,” she replied with equal enthusiasm. 

Bucky didn’t hear the rest of the conversation. Another of Melanie’s supporters had grabbed his hand and shook it vigorously, tearing him out of the eavesdropping.

He heard the lilt in Margaret’s voice again now that his father was introducing Melanie to her.

“Lovely to meet you, Margaret,” Melanie said after the introductions. “George has told me so much about you. Thank you for coming this evening. I appreciate it so much.”

“Lovely to meet you, as well,” Margaret replied. “I heard lots of good things about your stances on education and health reforms for this district. A lot of which I agree with, and after hearing your speech, I’m very impressed. We would do well if you were voted in.”

Melanie blushed. “Well, thank you. It was very kind of you to say that.”

“I’m only speaking the truth, my dear.” Margaret gestured to Steve. “Melanie, this is Steve Rogers, a family friend who was kind enough to be my date tonight. Steve Rogers, this is Melanie Wilton-Barnes and her husband, James Buchanan Barnes.”

Steve smiled at Melanie as he reached out to shake her hand. “Good to meet you,” he said. 

Bucky heard his voice. His heart stopped beating for a second. Looking up, his eyes widened. 

“I have to admit that Margaret had to give me a crash course on the differences between the House of Representatives and the Senate,” Steve continued. “I think I have it straight, but just in case, I’m going to just say I think you’ll be an excellent representative when the voters give you the job.”

Melanie laughed, charmed by his modesty, honesty, and unabashed compliments. “Thank you very much, Mr. Rogers. I hope you didn’t feel out of your depth or bored by this evening.”

His eyes looked to Melanie’s left and found a pair of familiar grey eyes staring back at him. His heart beat faster at the sight of Bucky. He had not expected to see him here, nor did he anticipate that he was married. Quickly, he looked back at Melanie. “Uhm, no, as a matter of fact. I found the evening to be quite… illuminating.”

Bucky’s heart sank at the word ‘illuminating.’ He didn’t know what Steve meant, in what context he was using that word. But he couldn’t help but think the word was being used in a negative context.

The man reached out to shake Bucky’s hand. “Hi, I’m Steve,” he said. Bucky automatically took his hand. Steve clasped his other hand around Bucky's hand as they shook hands. “It’s good to meet you, James,” Steve continued. “You have a very astute wife who’s passionate about what she wants to do for her constituents. You’re a lucky man.”

“Uhm, thank you. I am a lucky man. She’s passionate about a lot of things.” Bucky smiled as he felt his heart sink even deeper into the pit of his stomach. He hated the lie. “It’s very kind of you to say that.” 

Steve nodded, casually releasing his grip, and grazed his fingertips along the palm of Bucky's hand. Bucky widened his eyes slightly at him. Steve saw something that looked like surprise and fear in his grey eyes before they looked downward, away from Steve.

As they walked away from Melanie and Bucky, Steve lowered his voice. “So, what’s their marriage like?”

“What do you mean what is their marriage like?” Margaret asked.

“Are they lovey-dovey in public? Are they a united front with the media?”

“They’re not into heavy displays of affection if that’s what you’re getting at. He doesn’t accompany her to every function. He does have a life outside of hers. And I think they are a lovely couple. They’re both easy on the eyes. The optics are very good with these two.”

“How long have they been married?”

Margaret looked at Steve. “I’ve never known you to be this nosy about someone… are you up to something?”

“I’m just curious.”

“Curious,” she parroted. “Right. Anyway, I think they’ve been married for about six years.”

“Tell me more.”

• • • • •

The drive back to their home was shrouded in silence. Melanie and Bucky entered the front door of their home without speaking to each other. 

She knew she shouldn’t have done it. It was something they had discussed when it came to being seen together in public, before signing the marriage certificate. What was acceptable when it came to showing public displays of affection as a married couple and what was not. The hand on his thigh had been an impulsive choice. 

She watched as Bucky closed the door behind him, walked past her, heading straight for the bar. 

“James, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to feel a little grounded after the speech.”

“I understand,” he replied flatly, pouring himself a scotch and took a sip. “Tonight was a big night. I’m happy for you. You did well.”

Before Melanie could add anything else to the stilted conversation, he walked out to the backyard.

She frowned and headed up the stairs to her bedroom.

• • • • •

Pacing back and forth anxiously, Bucky lit a cigarette in an attempt to keep himself busy in some small meagre way. But all he really wanted to do was talk to Steve. 

He wanted to explain why he had been careful about saying anything regarding himself and his life. He had been so preoccupied with figuring out what he could afford to reveal that he ended up not telling Steve he was married without getting into specifics of who he was married to and who his father was. He allowed Steve to assume he was single and available. 

Bucky chewed at his lower lip, thinking he had blown any chance with the man. He worried Steve would step away from him and whatever it was that was happening between them. He worried Steve wouldn’t listen to his explanation and his reasons. Slowly, his fears and imagination were running amok. Briefly, he wondered if Steve would out him, causing damage to Melanie’s run for congress. He wondered if he would give himself an ulcer if he didn’t reign in his growing panic soon.

So many thoughts were swirling around in his head after seeing Steve that everything else ceased to exist. He was ready to crawl out of his skin.

His phone rang and vibrated in his pants pocket. Pulling out the phone, he sucked in a breath at the name of the caller. Steve. He let it ring two more times before he answered.

“Hi.”

“Bucky?”

“Yeah.”

“It was good seeing you this evening.”

Bucky paused, feeling his heart racing. Words started tumbling out of his mouth. 

“I can explain. I’m sorry I didn’t say I was married. I’m sorry I didn’t say a lot of things. Please hear me out.”

Steve heard the anxiousness and the tremor in Bucky’s voice. He wanted to calm him down, wanted to give him a hug. “You’re not the only person who feels the need to apologize, Buck.” 

To Bucky’s ears, Steve’s voice was painfully calm. “What do you mean?”

“We need to talk.”

“Are you mad?”

“Surprised. Curious. But not mad.”

“Okay. Could we talk now?”

“Not over the phone. We need to do this face-to-face.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Tonight? I really want to see you.”

Hearing Bucky’s desire to see him, Steve smiled softly. “Tonight is good, but it’s a little late. You’re not too tired? It’s been a long evening.”

“I’ve had a long day, but I don’t care. I’ll drive anywhere to see you. You would be the highlight of my day,” Bucky said emphatically. “Name the location, and I’ll be there.” 

“Come by my place. There’s a guest spot beside my car in the underground parking. I’ll text you the spot number and code to get in.”

Bucky relaxed. “I’ll be there within the hour.”

• • • • •

Bucky bided his time, waiting at least half an hour after changing into a pair of jeans, t-shirt, and sneakers to quietly slip out of the house. Taking the car he used to drive when he was in med school, he headed over to Steve’s condo. He rarely drove it anymore. He had kept it for sentimental reasons. It was a nondescript looking car. Nothing fancy. Nothing that screamed money or privilege. He checked in his rear-view mirror, trying to determine if anyone working for his father was following him. As far as he could tell, he was free from prying eyes. 

Steve waited for Bucky to arrive. He thought about what Margaret had said about Bucky, Melanie and the rest of the Barnes family. Steve felt something was missing from her narrative of Bucky. Looking back at the way their first night together had played out, he knew something was missing. And Steve wanted to talk to Bucky about it. He also hoped that seeing Bucky at the gala wouldn’t make the man bolt and run from him.

The quiet knock on the door pulled him out of his ruminations. Steve moved quickly to open it. They locked eyes for a moment, and Bucky spoke first. 

“Hey.”

“Hey, yourself,” Steve replied. “Come on in, Buck.”

He walked in, feeling unsure about what to expect. He turned around to find Steve very much in his personal space. 

Steve raised his hands to cradle Bucky’s face and kissed him. He tasted cigarettes and a faint taste of scotch on his lips. 

Bucky kissed back eagerly, wanting more. He tasted fading remnants of the red wine from the dinner. He wrapped his arms around Steve’s waist, pulling him flush with his body.

A minute passed before Steve pulled back from Bucky’s lips. “I take it that you’re probably not going to run out on me,” he noted, smiling softly.

“No, I’m not,” Bucky answered, returning the smile. “I’m gonna take a wild guess you’re not going to tell me to go fuck myself and kick me out, either?”

“No. But we need to talk.”

Bucky nodded. “Not gonna argue with you on that one.”

“Let’s head out onto the balcony,” Steve suggested. “It’s a beautiful night. Nice breeze coming off the ocean.”

“Maybe another time?” Bucky countered. “I don’t think the people my father hired to follow me know I’m here, but I don’t want to take any chances.”

Steve narrowed his eyes. “Someone is following you on your father’s orders? I don’t understand.”

“My father knows I met someone at the bar. I was spotted leaving with you, but they didn’t see us come back here.”

“Why would he do that?”

“He’s thrown his name behind Melanie’s campaign, after all, she is his daughter-in-law. He says I need to, as he puts it, _curb my tendencies_; otherwise, I’ll embarrass her. To be honest, he doesn’t want me embarrassing him. Melanie doesn’t care.”

“Why would you say that about Melanie? She’s your wife. Of course, she would care.”

“She’s my wife on paper only. We sleep in separate bedrooms. We never consummated the marriage.”

Steve had not expected to hear those words from Bucky. “You never slept with her? Not ever?”

“Nope. She knew my preferences going into the marriage. The marriage is a fucking sham, thanks to my father.”

Now, Steve’s head was starting to spin at the absurdity Bucky revealed, but he was certain of one thing.

“Maybe I’ve had a little too much wine at dinner,” Steve contemplated. “Or maybe not enough. Start from the beginning. I need to understand how we got here. Here with you standing in front of me. And me not caring how complicated our lives really are because all I want is you.”

Bucky’s eyes lit up at Steve’s last five words. He nodded solemnly. “Okay, I’ll start from the beginning.”

He spent the next twenty minutes explaining his father’s disappointment that he had chosen not to follow in his political footsteps to pursue a career in medicine. He explained how, at the age of fourteen, he knew he liked boys. That his mother always knew. That he never told his father until he was in med school because of the way he spoke positively about LGBTQ issues in public contrasted glaringly in his passive-aggressive remarks in private when he wasn’t caught up in the political machine.

“Where does Melanie come into this?” Steve asked.

“She started as an intern for my father before he made the decision to run for senator. She was bright, smart, and politically astute for her age at the time. She had political aspirations.”

“So, you’ve known her for a long time.”

“Yes. We were really good friends. She was easy to talk to. Having her around took the heat off of me for not being interested in politics.”

“So, how did you two decide to get married and yet, still not be married in the Biblical sense, at the same time?”

“My father decided for us. Well, he managed to talk us into it. For a lack of a better word, it was arranged.”

Steve shook his head. “Again, I don’t understand how this works. How did he manage to talk the two of you into marrying each other? Did he speak to Melanie’s parents? This isn’t the eighteenth century so I honestly can’t wrap my head around this.”

“Mel’s family doesn’t know the extent of the ruse. And I was messed up,” Bucky said bluntly. “I knew I wanted to be a doctor. My brain functioned more than well enough for my studies. But I didn’t know who I was as a person. I know it’s a little easier to embrace being different these days, but in the world I live, it’s still a lot of theoretical and not a whole lot of practical acceptance. So, I hid it.”

“When did Melanie know?”

“I told her a couple of days after we met.”

“You became pretty close.”

“Yeah, as close as friends could get without sex being involved. We both vented to each other, about everything, but we didn’t have sleepovers or anything like that. We didn’t roll that way.”

“What was your father’s reason for having you two become man and wife?”

“Ultimately, it was for optics. It happened because Melanie showed an interest in politics and I didn’t. He’s fixated on having a legacy. Bringing Melanie into the family solved that problem. He knew she and I were close. My mom and Becca loved her. So, because I was full of self-doubt and confused, and I wanted my father’s approval. This was the one thing I thought I could do to make up for the fact that I wasn’t what he thought I would become.”

It hurt Steve to hear Bucky speak negatively about himself.

“This kind of charade is hard to pull off even with someone you’ve known for as long as you’ve known Mel,” Steve commented. “What is it? Six years? I don’t know.”

“Maybe five and a half. Well, we’re still doing it.”

“But for how much longer? If your father is fixated on legacy, at some point, won’t there be an expectation to produce a grandchild?”

“That’s not in the cards. Melanie knows it. I won’t jerk off into a cup to get her inseminated. It’s not happening.”

“Does she want kids?”

“Not on her radar.”

Steve nodded, thinking for a moment. “How’s your relationship with her now?”

“Not that great.”

“Why is that?”

Bucky stiffened and fidgeted. “I’m restless. I’m tired. I feel like I’m suffocating.” He paused. “I’m taking it out on her by not speaking to her when we’re out of the public eye because she’s a reminder of the mistake I made when I was weak and agreed to the charade.” His voice started to crack as he finished his sentence.

Steve stepped forward to wrap his arms around him, hugging him tightly. “You’re not weak, Buck,” he whispered.

“It’s been going downhill since I met you, Steve. I can’t stop thinking about you.” He buried his face in Steve’s shoulder, breathing in his scent, wrapping his arms tightly around him.

“Really?” Steve stroked the back of Bucky’s head.

“I think it’s more than lust or infatuation. I know it’s too early to say it’s more than that, but I know I don’t want to stop seeing you.”

Steve leaned back and cupped Bucky’s face. “I don’t want you to stop either.” He kissed Bucky again, nipping at his lower lip with his teeth. Bucky groaned, diving in for another kiss. 

Coming up for air, Steve rested his forehead against Bucky’s.

“Okay, it’s my turn to apologize.”

“Why do you need to apologize?”

“I need you to know what I do for a living.”

“You told me what you do. You’re an art consultant, right?”

“I do more than that.”

“Unless you’re an assassin working for some secret government agency, I can’t think of a reason why you haven’t told me you’re more than an art consultant.”

“I’m an escort.”

Bucky stared at him for a moment. “Okay,” he said, unfazed by the knowledge.

Steve narrowed his eyes. “That’s all you have to say?”

“I’m thinking.”

“Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Well… it’s not a bad thing.”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Buck?”

“Were you working when we met at the bar?”

“No. I wasn’t working when we met. I was just me. Steven Grant Rogers. Having a drink at my favorite watering hole.”

“Are you one of those thousand-dollar-a-night escorts?” The words rolled off his tongue in a thoughtful manner.

“I… wouldn’t put it like that.”

“But people pay good money for your services, right?” Bucky seemed more curious than repelled by Steve’s admission that he made a living offering his time and body to those willing to pay.

“Yeah, if they can afford it, they pay for my attention and company.”

“You work for an agency?”

“I work for a woman who has been very successful in the industry.”

“Is there anything you won’t do for a client?”

“Yeah, I have my limitations. I don’t care how much money is being thrown at me or at my boss. I will say no, and she will actually respect my decision.” Steve paused. “You’re asking a lot of questions.”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders. “Shouldn’t I? I’m curious.”

“You’re not considering walking away from me and the life I lead?”

“I really can’t judge anyone when my choices have been questionable.”

“You’re not uncomfortable about the fact that I’m an escort? You’re not jealous?”

“I haven’t given it a lot of thought, but right now, I’m not. You said it’s a job. Money is being exchanged for services, it’s a business. They’re not trying to buy your love. They’re paying for your time. After it’s all said and done, you don’t socialize with them outside of that. This is strictly professional.”

“You’re awfully practical about this.”

“It’s your life. You’re inviting me into it. I have no say in how you conduct your life. I can question it, but I shouldn’t tell you how to live it. And I think you would do the same for me.”

“Are you sure you’re fine with what I do?” Steve asked. “A person can do or say one thing and then turn around and do or say the opposite later.”

“Are YOU sure you’re okay with how my life looks like right now?” Bucky countered. “Same thing applies here. I want you. I’ll take you whichever way I can have you.” 

Bucky’s determination to stay in his orbit touched something deep inside Steve.

“I want you, too, Buck. And I’ll take you whichever way I can, to have you, too.”

Bucky pulled Steve in for a heated kiss, desperate for contact. Hands tugging and pulling at clothing, searching for hot bare skin. Unable to keep their hands off of one another, a trail of clothes was left in their wake as they managed to navigate their way to Steve’s bed without knocking anything over.

Moonlight filtered between the open blinds to illuminate the bed and the shirtless lovers. Bucky pushed Steve down onto the bed. He quickly shoved his jeans down to pool around his ankles. Stepping out of the pile of fabric, he climbed onto the bed, propelling himself against Steve, knocking him onto his back. 

Bucky kissed hot and filthy into Steve’s mouth, straddled over the bulge still hidden behind the fabric of the sweatpants. Pushing up onto his hands, he braced himself and rocked his groin against Steve. A hungry moan escaped from the man’s throat.

“Christ, Buck, you gotta let me get out of my sweats,” he pleaded. “You can’t make me come while I’m still in them.”

“Why not?” Bucky kissed him again before his lips travelled down to his neck. 

“Because I’d rather come all over you,” he growled.

Nibbling on a patch of skin located at a spot just above the area where the neck and shoulder intersected, Bucky felt Steve’s hands grab his butt cheeks, spreading them apart. A finger brushed over his hole, making his body jerk against it but he remained latched onto Steve. In retaliation, Bucky sucked hard on the patch of skin he had between his lips. Steve keened, his blunt fingernails digging into his ass.

Releasing Steve from his lips, Bucky hissed. “Are you trying to leave bruises on my ass?”

“I could ask you the same thing about the hickey you just left me.”

“You don’t want me to mark you?”

Steve grinned. “Mark me all you want. I want reminders of you.”

Bucky returned the grin, crawling back down over Steve’s supine body to remove his sweatpants. Cradling Steve’s weeping cock in his hand, Bucky slowly ran his tongue along the underside from the balls to the tip. He ran his tongue over the slit, tasting the slight saltiness and tang of the pre-cum. He wanted to milk him of everything he had to give.

“More,” Steve sighed, staring at Bucky. “I need your mouth. Please. God, you feel so good.”

Bucky smiled angelically before his lips slid over Steve’s cock until the head touched the back of his mouth and nudged against the entrance to his throat. He pulled back quickly to avoid the gag reflex, his hand still stroking the shaft. 

It had been a long time since he attempted to deep throat anyone. Even back then, his technique wasn’t where he would have liked it to be. But he wanted to do this for Steve. 

He felt Steve’s fingers run through his hair before they floated down to his chin and tipped it up to his face. 

“Hey,” Steve spoke softly. “You don’t have to deep throat me if you’re not ready.”

“But I want to.”

“I know you do, Buck. But it’s not necessary.”

“I want to do some of the things you did to me. I want to reciprocate.”

Steve smiled fondly. “Just make love to me, Buck. Show me how you feel.”

Staring at each other for a moment in the moonlight, Bucky swallowed thickly. Crawling back up, he gave him a chaste kiss. “Where’s the lube?”

Steve reached over to the nightstand, pulling open the drawer and grabbed the bottle and a condom. “What would you like to do?” he asked, handing over the items to Bucky.

“I’d like to eat you, then fuck you. I didn’t get the chance to do that the first time. Is that alright?”

Steve smiled. “It’s more than alright. How would you like me?”

“Presenting would be the least cumbersome, but I want to see your face,” he answered with a slight frown.

“How about I present and then I’ll move onto my back when you want to fuck me or when I want you to fuck me?”

Bucky kissed him. “That’s a good compromise.”

Steve rolled onto his elbows and knees, ass up in the air for Bucky to admire and feast on. He felt hands grip and squeeze the fleshy part of his ass. The air in the room felt cool as his cheeks were parted, exposing his puckered hole. Hot breath breezed over it, making Steve tense in anticipation. He gasped, then whined as wet, slick heat skated over the muscle. Bucky’s tongue playfully skimmed along the rim as it occasionally pressed against the hole. 

Feeling how wet and slick he was becoming, Steve squirmed against Bucky’s mouth. He felt saliva trail down his perineum towards the base of his balls, teasing and torturing him. His cock dripped with pre-cum. He needed and wanted more friction.

Feeling the man grow restless and perhaps a little needy, Bucky ran the tip of his tongue from Steve’s hole, down along the perineum to his balls where he mouthed and tugged at them with his lips. A string of profanities spilled out of Steve’s mouth, his face partially buried into the mattress.

A small whimper escaped his throat when Bucky took his lips away from him. Steve heard a plastic cap click open and click close seconds later. A wet and cold finger pressed against the ring of muscle until it relaxed and allowed entry. He groaned as Bucky slowly pushed further in. Bending his finger slightly, he twisted it searching for the prostate. It didn’t take long to brush against the bundles of nerves that flanked it, causing Steve to see stars and gasp for air. 

A second finger joined the first one, deliberately moving in and out of Steve. Aided by a little lubrication, the push and drag of skin on skin felt delicious. He slowly began to fuck himself on Bucky’s fingers. A hand, slick with lube, reached around to stroke his cock, heavy and dripping onto the bedsheets. After a few tentative strokes, Bucky tightened his grip, making Steve cry out. He rolled his hips obscenely, fucking himself on Bucky’s fingers and thrusting his cock into the other hand.

“Oh fuck, Steve, you’re gorgeous like this,” Bucky said in awe. “You should see yourself.” 

His own erection rubbed up against the back of Steve’s thigh. The friction caused by Steve’s undulations had his cock weeping and leaving a wet, shiny mess trailing down the thigh. It didn’t take long for Steve to want to go further. He ached with need.

“Bucky, please,” he panted. “You gotta get inside me now.”

Bucky quickly released his grip around his cock as his fingers slid out of his ass. The loss of the touch was soon replaced by his hard cock gliding between Steve’s cheeks and over his hole. Occasionally, the tip of Bucky’s cock pressed against the entrance as he rutted against Steve’s ass. Pre-cum leaked into the hungry hole. Steve pushed back against Bucky, blatantly telling him he needed more.

“On your back, Stevie,” Bucky ordered, grabbing the foil package and ripping it open to retrieve the condom.

Steve rolled onto his back, bringing his knees up to either side of his chest, exposing and offering himself to Bucky who groaned hungrily at the sight of him. After coating his cock with more lube, Bucky lined himself up with Steve’s hole. He glanced at Steve to find him staring back at him with lust and desire. He inhaled deeply.

With one hand gripped around Steve’s right thigh, Bucky pressed the tip of his cock against the hole. It easily gave way to the pressure. Steve moaned, his cock twitching as Bucky entered him. Feeling the heat and the walls ripple around him, it pulled Bucky deeper, and he couldn’t resist.

“Shit, you feel so good, Stevie,” Bucky groaned, pressing forward until his balls made contact with Steve’s ass. Pausing to catch his breath, allowing Steve to settle and relax around him, he dropped onto his elbows to sweetly kiss him. Steve smiled, wriggling his hips, indicating he was ready for something more vigorous. 

Pushing himself upright, Bucky slowly moved in and out of Steve. The lube made it easier for him to pick up the pace and bury himself balls deep with each thrust. Each time he made contact with Steve’s ass, he would rock his hips forward for a little extra push that had Steve moaning and cursing. The stickiness and squelching sounds of skin slapping against lube, sweat, and saliva-smeared skin made both men harder and insatiable with each passing moment.

Bucky reached down to wrap his hand around Steve’s red-tipped and shiny cock, stroking it in rhythm with his thrusts. Steve reached down to join his hand with Bucky’s stroking his cock together.

“Oh, fuck, yeah,” Steve gasped, pawing at the bedsheets with the other hand. He had almost forgotten what it was like to be stretched and made to feel full. Having Bucky inside him reminded him how much he loved it. “Don’t stop, don’t stop… Jesus fucking Christ.” He pressed his heels into the dimples above Bucky’s butt cheeks, lifting his hips to meet each thrust.

Bucky began changing the angle of his thrusts, looking for the one that would make Steve howl and beg. After a minute, he found it.

“Oh, God, yes!” Steve cried out, bearing down and clenching around Bucky. Any subsequent sounds coming out of his mouth were incoherent, filthy mutterings and wanton moans.

Steve’s reaction to being soundly fucked sent jolts of pleasure down Bucky’s spine, right into his dick. Tightening his grip around the man’s cock, he pounded him mercilessly. Steve held off as long as he could before he arched his back off the bed, silently screaming as he came, covering his stomach, chest and Bucky’s hand in cum.

Feeling Steve clench around on his dick had Bucky temporarily losing his rhythm, but he continued to fuck him through his orgasm. The two men locked eyes — one blissfully heavy-lidded, the other still needing to chase his orgasm. He stilled his hips as he smoothed his hands over Steve’s torso, rubbing cum into his skin. With Steve watching, Bucky swiped two fingers through the mess and brought them to his mouth to lick, taste and suck. Showing interest, Steve licked his lips.

“Do you wanna taste?” Bucky smirked as he resumed thrusting.

“Yeah, you know I do,” he rasped.

After dragging his fingers through the mess again, Bucky slipped them into Steve’s waiting mouth who was eager to taste himself. Steve moaned as he deftly worked his tongue around and between the fingers. Bucky ducked down to kiss him, rolling his hips into Steve. 

“Fuck, you feel so good, Stevie,” he growled. “I could fuck you all night if you wanted me to. You know that I would, right?”

“Yeah, I do,” Steve replied. “Come for me, baby. I wanna feel you come.”

Bucky rocked hard and deep into Steve, until a couple of minutes later, he roared, biting into his shoulder.

They laid tangled together for several minutes before Bucky rolled off Steve and climbed out of bed to head to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and return with a couple of damp towels to wipe the mess off their bodies.

A few minutes later, they cuddled in bed with Bucky resting his head on Steve’s chest, basking in the afterglow. 

“I haven’t bottomed for anyone in a long time,” Steve confessed, carding his fingers through Bucky’s hair. “It’s not something I allow any of the clients to do to me.”

Bucky raised his head off of Steve’s chest. “Is it an issue of control?”

“Yeah. It’s also an issue of power. It’s an issue of trust. And it’s about keeping something for myself.”

Bucky looked into Steve’s blue eyes for a moment before planting a kiss on his chest where his heart was located. “Thank you for trusting me.”

Steve kissed him in return. “Will you stay the night?”

“Yeah, I’ll stay the night, but I’m going to have to leave early.”

“Like last time?”

Bucky frowned. “Yeah, like last time. I have to get back home before anyone notices I’m not where I’m supposed to be. I’m sorry.”

“You have a charade to maintain, so I understand.”

“You shouldn’t have to understand. You should be demanding more of me.”

“Our lives are complicated. I can’t ask for anything more than you can give.” Sometimes Steve sounded too sensible for his own good.

“You’re awfully mature about this.”

“Bottom line is, I want you. Whatever you’ll give me, I’ll take.”

“Same here. So, how do we do this?”

Steve shrugged his shoulders. “Steal whatever time there is to be together.”

“You mean fly by the seats of our pants?”

“For now, yes.”

• • • • •

A few short hours later, Steve heard rustling and the sound of someone cursing after accidentally walking into something.

“Buck?” Steve mumbled as he turned on the nightstand lamp. The night sky slowly moving from black to indigo.

“Sorry,” Bucky hobbled over. “I didn’t mean to wake you like that.”

“How were you going to wake me?” he asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“Like this.” Bucky pressed a sweet kiss on Steve’s lips.

Steve blinked. “I’m still half asleep, but from what I can tell, that would have been a better way to wake up.”

Bucky smiled for a second. “I really want to stay, Steve. I want you to know that.”

“I do. Don’t worry. We’ll fumble our way through this. Stay in touch, okay?”

Bucky gave him another kiss. “You know I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will be posted Friday.


	4. Cover me with love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Steve's affair begins. Bucky and his father have words again. This time George has discovered Steve's identity. After walking out on his father, Bucky spends the night with Steve. A morning phone call leads Bucky to creatively distract Steve during his phone conversation. Later, Steve is saddened and sickened by news about a former client.

The following couple of weeks had Bucky feeling lovesick. The stolen moments and nights at Steve’s condo, texts, and phone calls made his life more bearable. But he couldn’t begin to figure out how to resolve the situation of sneaking around behind everybody’s backs. At some point, it would become untenable, and he would have to make a choice. He only hoped he would find a solution before it got to that point.

Bucky arrived home one evening expecting to find Melanie scrutinizing the next day’s agenda in her home office, possibly informing him he would need to make an appearance with her. Or maybe she would be unwinding with a book and a glass of wine. That expectation was far from the reality standing in front of him now.

“Hello, James,” his father said gruffly, standing by the bar, sipping a shot of bourbon in one hand, the other hand tucked in his pants pocket.

“Dad, what are you doing here?” Bucky asked, trying his best not to sound grumpy or hostile.

“I think we need to have a talk, son.”

“About what?”

“Not about what. It’s about who… Steve Rogers.”

Bucky’s heart skipped a beat before it thumped loudly in his ears, threatening to burst out of his chest.

“Excuse me?”

“I finally figured out who it was you met at that bar,” George stated, placing his drink down on the bar top counter. “And he dared to show up at Melanie’s campaign fundraiser? You had a lot of nerve flaunting him in front of everyone.”

“First, you had people following me, and now, you have people following Steve?”

“How else am I supposed to know what’s going on with you? You never share anything with your mother or me?”

“You never wanted to know what the hell was going on with me. Why would I start telling you anything now? I wasn’t flaunting him in front of anyone. And he was not my date,” Bucky steamed. “He was Margaret’s date.”

“He might as well have been your date,” George grumped. “I’ll be talking to Margaret about bringing someone less questionable as a date. You do know he’s one of those high-paid escorts, don’t you? Alexander Pierce knows about him. He told me everything he knows about the man.” 

“I thought you didn’t like the man.” 

“Your boy works for a madame who operates out of Malibu. I hope you didn’t pay for his services.” 

“He is not my boy,” Bucky seethed. “Number one: Margaret can invite whoever she damn well pleases to these events unless you want Melanie to lose her as a supporter. Number two: I didn’t pay for anything,” Bucky said through gritted teeth. “It is not that kind of relationship.”

“What kind of relationship is it, then?”

“The kind that doesn’t involve the exchange of money for services,” Bucky growled. “The kind where two people genuinely like each other and want to spend time together, getting to know each other better. Like what any normal couple would do.”

“This is not normal,” George barked.

“Not normal _is_ normal around here,” Bucky snarled. “Are you saying my marriage to Mel is normal? You have got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Steve Rogers is an expensive whore,” George shouted. “A prostitute. It’s in your best interest to stop seeing him.”

“You mean it’s in _your_ best interest that I stop seeing him,” Bucky shouted back. “You can’t tell me how to run my fucking life. By the way, he is a sex worker. That is the preferred term these days.”

“Don’t you use that language with me, son.”

“I don’t give a flying fuck, Dad. You’ve had too much to say about my life for far too long. It stops now.” Bucky wheeled around, walking straight for the front door.

“Where are you going?” George demanded.

“I’m going out,” Bucky stated. “When you see Melanie, tell her I’ll be gone for the evening.”

• • • • •

Sitting out on the balcony with a bottle of mineral water tucked under the chaise lounge, Steve moved the graphite pencil across the paper with ease and confidence. He was working on a pair of eyes. Drawing from memory, the general outline was done. All he had to do was fill in the details. The iris. The pupil. The eyelashes. The glint of light shining out, giving depth to the owner of those eyes.

This was the one time he wished he had colored pencils at his disposal. He paused to examine what he had on paper. It wasn’t bad. He thought of adding in the brows and nose next and then filling in the details tomorrow.

A loud knock on the door startled Steve out of his thoughts. Carrying the mineral water, paper, and pencil back inside, he walked to the door and looked through the peephole. He quickly opened the door.

“Hey.”

“Hey. Can I come it?” Bucky looked frazzled and agitated.

“Yeah, absolutely,” Steve replied, stretching out his arms to bring Bucky into a hug. “What’s going on?”

  
  


“He knows who you are,” he answered into Steve’s shoulder. He was still shaking from his confrontation with his father.

“Who knows who I am?” Steve asked with puzzlement.

Bucky pulled back to look at him. “My father. He referred to you by name.”

“Okay. How much trouble are we in? Is he threatening to have me knocked off?” Steve asked with a touch of cheekiness as he cradled Bucky’s face.

“That’s not funny, you fucking punk,” Bucky huffed. Steve gave him a gentle, rueful smile. “He says I need to stop seeing you. He says it’s not in everyone’s best interest which is bullshit because it’s not in _his_ best interest.”

“Do you think he’ll try something?”

“I don’t know. He has a lot of bark, but I don’t know if he would ever bite. He was waiting for me when I got home. And he went straight for the throat.”

“Where is he now?”

“I walked out. Left him there. Told him to tell Melanie that I was going out for the evening.” He took in a deep breath. “And here I am.”

Steve pulled him into another hug which Bucky gladly returned. “What do you want to do now?”

“Stay here with you tonight.”

Steve chuckled. “That’s a given, Buck. I meant, what do you want to do now considering your father knows about us?”

“I’m going to keep seeing you, that’s what. He can’t stop me. He can’t stop us.”

“Are you planning to rain hellfire down on him?”

“No. Only if he forces my hand. I have Melanie and her run for congress to consider.”

“What do you want to do with regards to her?”

Bucky sighed. “I think I should stick it out until the election and then talk to her about a divorce after the dust has settled.” He paused. “I can’t stay in the marriage. She can’t stay in the marriage. She deserves someone who will love her. I’m not that person.”

“Okay,” Steve responded, tenderly stroking the back of Bucky’s head. “Leave that for tomorrow or the day after. What would you like to do now?”

“Take a shower with you. Lie in bed with you, and have you just hold me? I’m feeling kinda tired.”

Steve kissed him. “Yeah, we can do that.”

• • • • •

Bucky heard the sound of Steve chuckling gently. Curious, he opened one eye to find the room filled with ambient morning light. He turned his head in the direction of Steve’s voice. 

“Yeah, I’m sorry that I couldn’t come over this morning,” he smiled, speaking to the person at the other end of the call. “But I was thinking about you before you called. I was thinking about the way you went down on me the last time we were together.”

Bucky squinted. Steve wasn’t using his personal phone. A work phone? He pushed himself onto his elbows, looking at Steve with interest. He heard the muffled sound of a woman’s voice.

“Yeah, you were so good, I’m getting hard just thinking about it,” Steve continued, smiling at Bucky. The woman could be heard giggling while Steve mouthed ‘good morning,’ his hand nowhere near his dick. “Nothing wrong with a little dirty talk to get the day off to a good start, right?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow at him. An idea popping into his head even as Steve smiled brightly at him. He smiled back, salaciously.

Sliding his hand under the bed cover, Bucky reached for Steve’s cock to begin lightly stroking it. Steve narrowed his eyes at him, mouthing the word ‘no.’

“Too bad. Just go with it,” Bucky whispered before giving the shaft a sloppy, wet lick. He wrapped his lips around the tip and hollowed his cheeks. Steve closed his eyes, gripping Bucky’s shoulder.

“Oh yeah, that feels really good,” Steve breathed more deeply, continuing to converse with the client. “You worship my cock? Really? Oh god, you’re making me blush.”

Bucky grabbed Steve’s free hand and began licking and sucking the index and middle fingers. Steve stared at Bucky as he attempted to listen to the client talk dirty to him. Bucky guided his hand towards his ass. Steve knew exactly what Bucky wanted. His fingers massaged and pressed against the puckered ring of muscle. Still stroking Steve, Bucky closed his eyes pushing against him. He returned to sucking his lover’s cock, making Steve groan.

“Keep doing that with your tongue,” Steve said to both Bucky and the client. “I’ll be ready to fuck you if you keep doing that.” He slid a finger into Bucky. Steve groaned loudly again to cover Bucky’s hiss.

“But let me finger you first before I fuck you. Would you like that?” Steve asked the client after catching his breath. With a mouthful of Steve’s cock, Bucky stilled for a moment to hear the woman sigh and answered with an enthusiastic ‘yes!’ 

Steve slid the second finger inside Bucky, fucking him at a steady pace.

“You like how I finger you, don’t you? Teasing you before I fill you up with my cock. You like that, don’t you?”

Bucky answered by hollowing his cheeks again, sucking hard. Steve hissed and moaned. Finding the bundle of nerves, Steve skated his fingers over it. Bucky pulled away, gasping at the sensation, a string of spit and pre-cum hanging from his lower lip, fighting not to howl. He turned to look at Steve who gave him a heated look, a warning that he too, could play as dirty as Bucky wanted.

“Mmmm, your pussy is so wet and slick,” Steve cooed at the client, pushing his fingers deeper into Bucky. “So easy moving in and out of you. What would happen if I slid three fingers inside you?” He paused for an answer from the woman. “God, you’re so wet, you’ll be ready for me in no time, won’t you?”

“Are you ready for me?” Steve asked his client. “Do you want me on top or do you want to ride me?” The woman answered. “You want to ride me? You know I love it when you ride me.” He grinned at Bucky.

Steve smiled, his fingers slipping out of Bucky’s hole. 

Grabbing a condom from the nightstand drawer, Bucky didn’t waste any time rolling it onto Steve’s cock and adding a dollop of lube for good measure. Straddling Steve, he guided the tip to his entrance and slowly sank down on it.

Steve groaned over the phone. “Oh, fuck, you’re so tight, baby. So warm and so wet. Take your time, I’m not going anywhere. Roll your hips for me. I like it when you roll your hips.”

Bucky obliged the man by rolling his hips. He smirked at the fact Steve was actually telling him what he wanted him to do under the guise of phone sex with the client.

After a couple minutes of listening to Steve continue having phone sex with the client, Bucky slowly began sliding up and down on Steve’s cock, clenching and releasing around it. Soon, he reached down between his legs to stroke himself as he rode Steve.

Steve’s eyes widened at the sight, making him almost forget he still had a client on the phone. He blinked, realizing he hadn’t been listening to the client. 

“Sorry, baby. I just got lost thinking about how beautiful you look riding me,” he said smoothly, covering up for his distraction. Bucky smiled at him. “You’re bouncing on my cock now, aren’t you, baby? Your pussy wet and juicy. Your tits jiggling for me. Yeah, ride me. Ride me hard. Take your pleasure from me, honey.”

Steve growled as Bucky released his grip on his dick and rode him hard. He watched his cock disappear in and out of Bucky’s ass. He watched and felt Bucky’s cock bounce off his stomach. 

He felt Bucky slow down, the rhythm stuttered as his body started to stiffen. Bucky resumed stroking himself, tightening his grip, swallowing every sound that threatened to escape his lips.

“That’s it, baby,” Steve encouraged both Bucky and the client. “You’re close. I can feel it. Tighten around me. Make me feel you. Come any time, baby. I’m not gonna be far behind.”

That was all the encouragement Bucky and the client needed. Bucky shuddered and cried out at the same time as the client, spilling cum onto Steve’s stomach and chest. 

Steve dropped the phone onto the bed, grabbed Bucky by the hips, and thrusted up into him, quick and hard, chasing his orgasm. A minute later, Steve roared, pulling Bucky down on top of him. He continued to groan, then whimper into Bucky’s shoulder. 

Carding his fingers through Steve’s hair, Bucky quietly shushed him, pressing light kisses onto the sensitive spot located just below his ear. Grabbing the phone, he handed it over to Steve, who realized the client was still on the line.

“Hey,” Steve spoke hoarsely. “Feeling better now?”

Bucky couldn’t hear what the woman was saying.

“I know it would have been better if I was there in person,” Steve agreed. “But you sounded like you enjoyed yourself. I certainly did,” he said, looking into Bucky’s eyes.

“I should let you go,” Steve told the client. “I have a full schedule today, and I need to get a jump on everything I need to do. Call me in a couple of days? I’ll have a better idea of what my schedule looks like. Take care.”

Steve ended the call, tossed the phone, and kissed Bucky. “You play dirty.”

“When you talk like that, I can’t help but play dirty,” Bucky grinned. 

“One day, I’m gonna fuck you without a condom,” Steve confessed, lightly running his fingers up and down his lover’s back. “I really want to feel you. I want to fill you up with cum, watch it leak out of you and then eat you out.”

Steve felt Bucky’s cock twitch between them. He grinned.

“Jesus Christ, Steve. You can’t say shit like that and not expect me to react in some way.”

“I’m not sorry, Buck. I use protection with all my clients. I don’t go down on them, but they do go down on me, so I still get tested every three months.”

“You’ve been clean since you started?”

“Yeah, I’ve been diligent. I’ve also been lucky. But I really don’t want to wear one when I’m with you.”

“Keep getting tested. I’ll get tested although the likelihood of me having anything is practically zero. Then we can revisit this later?”

Steve nodded. “Wanna take a shower together?”

“You know I’ll never say no to that.”

• • • • •

“You’re running low on orange juice,” Bucky called out from the balcony, filling two glasses with the remaining liquid. 

“Okay, I’ll put it on the list,” Steve replied, putting two slices of sourdough bread into the toaster and pushing down the lever to start it. He slid over to the stove to turn the heat off on the poached eggs.

Bucky walked back into the kitchen to dispose of the juice carton and start work on mashing the avocado for the toast. “Why don’t you take the newspaper and the coffee outside?” he suggested, placing his hand on the small dip of Steve’s back to lean in and kiss his cheek. “I’ll have breakfast ready in five, okay?”

Steve smiled. “Sure.”

Glancing at the front page of the newspaper, one story caught Steve’s attention. The headline read _Elizabeth Chamberlain dead: Wife of Leviathan CEO found slain in Laurel Canyon home_. Beneath the headline was a large photograph of a body bag being wheeled into the medical coroner’s van with police tape surrounding the house. A secondary image was of Thomas and Beth Chamberlain at a social function earlier in the year.

“Shit,” he swore under his breath as he started reading the article. He had been so sure Beth had no intention of going back to her husband. Yes, she had been frightened, but she seemed determined that walking away from her marriage was the best and only option given her husband’s nature.

The story indicated Chamberlain discovered her body in their home two days ago. Details of the cause of death had not been provided to the media yet, opting to focus on her background, life and the charity work she did to promote awareness of child poverty in the United States.

After reading the story, Steve still couldn’t figure out why Beth had returned to the Chamberlain home. But he also knew that leaving an abuser wasn’t easy. Steve had wanted to help her so much. He had hoped she had left him for good.

A plate of avocado toast with a poached egg sitting on top appeared before Steve. He looked up to see Bucky smiling at him.

“I guess you didn’t hear me,” he teased. “I was asking you if you had the salt and pepper out here.”

“I’m sorry, Buck. Yeah, they’re here. I just got lost in my head thinking about something.”

“Nothing serious, I hope.”

“Nah, it’s just something I thought would have had a happy ending, but it didn’t quite turn out that way.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“Me, too.” He looked down at the toast and poached egg. “This looks delicious, Buck.”

“Just wait until you take a bite. Just because it looks good doesn’t mean it tastes good.”

Steve smirked as he cut a piece of toast and dipped it in the egg yolk before he ate it. A hint of garlic and basil danced on his tongue. The creaminess of the avocado, the yolk, and the crunch of the bread all made for a pleasant texture.

“This is pretty good, Buck. I’ll have to cook something for you next time.”

“But you poached the eggs.”

“I started it, you finished it,” Steve grinned. “There’s a difference. I’ll make a pasta carbonara the next time you’re here.” 

“Looking forward to it,” Bucky replied, taking a sip of his coffee.

“What’s on your agenda today?”

“Try not to get into another fight with my father. That would be a good start. Go home and pretend to be a good husband.”

“When you put it that way, it doesn’t sound like a lot of fun.”

“I don’t want to go back to that life, Steve.”

Steve used his feet to gently nudge Bucky’s feet. “I’m here for you. I’ll always be here until you decide otherwise. You know that, right?”

Bucky pulled Steve in for a kiss. “Yeah, I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be posted on Sunday.


	5. There’s a storm you’re starting now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LAPD detective Sam Wilson interviews Thomas Chamberlain regarding the death of his wife, Beth. This leads to Sam contacting Steve regarding the case. Bucky and Melanie have a tense conversation, compelling him to visit his mother. Steve discovers interesting information about Chamberlain from Nat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so everyone knows because I didn't add it to the tags originally, but I have now... there is a happy ending. I don't do the kind of tomfoolery that involves separating the boys in any way at the end of the story. I don't roll that way. Not with these two.
> 
> Simply put, things will get 'interesting' for the boys but they will be together at the end.
> 
> WARNING: There is mention of non-con but it isn't explicit nor detailed.
> 
> And thank you for the comments! Stucky1980 and I are really grateful for your interest in the story :)

Looking slightly disheveled and not exactly put together for someone of his social standing, Thomas Chamberlain impatiently tapped his fingers on the cold, metal table. A mindless, erratic percussive rhythm bounced off the grey walls of the Los Angeles Police Department interrogation room. He didn’t want to be there but considering he informed the police he was the one who discovered his wife’s body, well… he had to be co-operative in their investigation. He didn’t have the option of staying out of it. 

On the other side of the observation mirror, Detective Sam Wilson watched Chamberlain draw out a long breath as he glanced at his watch, waiting for someone to walk into the room and discuss the night he discovered his wife’s body. Sam opened the folder containing photos of the crime scene and a preliminary autopsy report from the medical examiner on Beth Chamberlain. He had already gone over the contents before entering the observation room, but he wanted to skim through them again before meeting Chamberlain.

“What do you think?”

Sam glanced up from the folder to look at his captain, Nicholas Fury, to answer the question. “Hard to say. Preliminary results indicate she didn’t put up a fight.”

“So, it’s likely someone she knew did this to her.”

“That’s what it appears to be, sir. But until I go in there to talk to him, we’re just postulating and making assumptions.”

Fury nodded thoughtfully. “How is Riley doing?”

“Hates the hospital food but he’ll survive. You know the doctor said he’s out for at least a couple of months, probably more depending on how well he heals and reacts to physio.”

“I do, indeed. That boy had a pocket full of four-leaf clover when that bullet ripped through his shoulder and didn’t hit bone.”

Sam shuddered slightly at that fact. “So, are you giving me a temporary partner or am I going solo on this one?”

“You’re going solo. But you have the resources for this one, so you’re lead on this investigation.”

Sam thought for a moment. It had been a few years since he worked a case by himself. The last time he did, he was still in New York. When he moved to Los Angeles to be closer to his grandmother, he had been partnered up with Riley. It was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Not only was Riley his partner on the force, but he also became his life partner despite the fact it was frowned upon to be both. 

Regardless, Fury was the only one who knew the truth behind the story they told everyone that they became roommates, sharing an apartment because it was just easier financially and they liked each other enough to do it.

“Wilson, you got this,” Fury commented, pulling him out of his thoughts. “Your solve rate is one of the best on the force.”

“Riley is a big part of that solve rate.”

“True. But back in New York, you were pulling in similar numbers on your own. Nothing to be modest about, Sam.”

Sam nodded, acknowledging Fury’s compliment as he watched Chamberlain.

“So, are you gonna have a go at him now?” his captain asked.

“Nah, I’m gonna let him sweat for another ten minutes.”

• • • • •

The door to the interrogation room opened. Sam walked in with folder in hand.

“Good morning, Mr. Chamberlain. I am Detective Sam Wilson. Thank you for coming down this morning to answer a few questions for our investigation into your wife’s death.”

“She was murdered,” Chamberlain said unequivocally. “I found her body.”

“Yes, I heard you did,” Sam replied. “And you have my condolences. The medical examiner’s preliminary report leans towards the probability of murder, but the cause of death still needs to be finalized.”

“Very well. What can I help you with Detective Wilson?”

“In the statement that you gave to the officer on the scene, you said money and jewelry were missing. Do you have an idea of how much money was taken?”

“I’m afraid I have no idea,” Chamberlain replied. “It was a fair amount. Maybe a thousand.”

“And the jewelry?”

“Beth’s jewelry box was empty. Anything that wasn’t kept in the safe was kept there.”

“There wasn’t an attempt made to break into the safe?”

“It’s hidden behind a painting in the study. Beth, I and the company who installed it are the only ones who know of its existence.”

Sam nodded as he skimmed over the statement. “Okay, we need to know where you were the night your wife died.”

“I was at a business dinner meeting. If I didn’t have the meeting, I would have gone out for dinner with Beth instead.”

“When did you last see her?”

“I was leaving the house to go to the office the morning she died,” Chamberlain replied. “We had breakfast out in the patio. She made pancakes. She loved to cook.”

“You don’t have house staff? I thought a man of your wealth would naturally have staff running the ins and outs of your household.”

“We don’t live in a mansion,” Chamberlain replied. “It’s large enough to entertain several guests but Beth and I, we are, were, private people. But we do have a groundskeeper, and he comes by twice a week. And before you ask, he wasn’t there the day she died. He was there the day before.”

Sam nodded as he opened the folder. “Did you speak with your wife during the day? Phone calls or text messages?”

“I did call her in the afternoon to see her how her day was going. She said she was going to run some errands.”

“Did she say what errands she had to run?”

“No, she didn’t, and I never bothered to ask.” He sighed. “I should have asked her.”

“And that was the last time you spoke to her?”

“Yes.”

Sam laid out several photographs taken of Beth’s injuries during the autopsy and of the couple’s bedroom where her body was found. Chamberlain cringed, making a face of disgust. 

Sam then placed a pair of handcuffs on the table beside the photographs.

“What are you doing?” Chamberlain demanded.

“According to the report, your wife was beaten and sexually assaulted before she died. There were marks on her wrists suggesting she was handcuffed. These are not the handcuffs your wife was wearing when she died. Those were found in the study in a chest, along with other items such as paddles, whips, leather masks, dildos… Well, I’m sure you know what I’m talking about.”

Chamberlain looked flustered and seemed ready to go off on Sam for the invasion of privacy.

“Look, your sex life is none of my business, nor is it the LAPD’s concern,” Sam stated.

Sam watched Chamberlain rub his face in agitation and run his hands through his hair.

“But based on the evidence that there was no forced entry into your residence, it would seem most likely the perpetrator had prior knowledge of your home. Someone who had been there before. Someone your wife knew. Someone who knew the existence of, for lack of a better phrase, your play chest.”

Chamberlain stiffened and sat a little taller in the chair. 

“I will try to keep everything in the strictest of confidence when I say that I will need a list of the names of guests you had at your home,” Sam continued. “I also need to know in detail the kinds of sexual activities you and your wife engaged in and if other individuals were involved. You’re a smart man. You must understand that this information is crucial in helping to identify a suspect in your wife’s death.”

Chamberlain sat thin-lipped for a moment before nodding his understanding. “Yes, of course. I can most certainly provide names for the investigation.”

• • • • •

A full jug of freshly squeezed orange juice sat alongside a bag of groceries on the kitchen counter while Steve placed the contents from another grocery bag into the walk-in pantry. The shopping list had been a little longer this time with Steve factoring in the probability of Bucky visiting and staying over more often. He liked the idea of buying groceries for two instead of one. It was something he had never entertained. The idea of having another person to consider instead of himself. He had always assumed he would live the life of a lone wolf. He was a romantic, but romance had always eluded him. So, he simply gave up. Sex was easy. Love was not.

His mobile rang and vibrated in his front jeans pocket. Pulling it out, he read the caller ID, smiled, and answered the call.

“Hey, it’s been a while,” Steve remarked. “How’s life been treating you? How’s Riley?”

“Considering he’s alive, life hasn’t been too shabby,” Sam replied. “He has a lot of recovery to do before they let him partner up with me again. But I still have a bone to pick with the asshole who shot him. He better pray the judge gives him a long sentence; otherwise, he’ll have me to deal with when he’s released back into society. How about you?”

“Been keeping busy,” Steve replied. “Nothing new.” He wasn’t prepared to say anything about Bucky. Not yet.

“Same old, same old, eh? Well, my grandma is still wondering when you’re gonna bring your skinny ass out to her place for a Sunday dinner. She was thrilled when she heard you were out here. She said something about it being good for me to have you here,” Sam chuckled. “If she only knew the truth.”

Steve laughed. “Yeah, she’d probably have my hide if she knew what I was doing out here.”

“Why she thinks I was the devil, and you were the angel when we were running around back in school is beyond me. It was the other way around if I recall correctly.”

“Excuse me, you were no angel,” Steve scoffed. “You just had to flash your smile and smooth talk your way out of trouble.”

“Well, if you got it, flaunt it,” Sam grinned. He paused for a second. “Look, we need to talk. Today.”

Steve frowned at the change in tone. “Yeah, sure. What’s going on?”

“I’d rather talk face-to-face. Meet me at our usual spot. Howlies near Solstice Canyon around six?”

“Yeah, sure. See you then.”

• • • • •

Noticing Melanie’s car was still in the driveway, Bucky walked into the house to discover she wasn’t anywhere to be found. After checking her office, he assumed his father had her picked up and whisked her off to another campaign strategy meeting. It was almost noon, but he wasn’t feeling hungry after having had breakfast with Steve. But he was in yesterday’s clothes, and he really wanted to get out of them and pull on a clean pair of jeans and a fresh shirt.

Opening his bedroom door, Bucky stopped dead in his tracks. 

“James, there is something we need to discuss.”

Melanie was sitting in his coffee-colored leather armchair, looking composed and determined.

“We verbally agreed that our bedrooms were our private spaces and off-limits to the other person,” Bucky stated, feeling defensive and a little surly. “ What’s so important that you had to break that agreement?”

“You need to make more public appearances with me.”

“Why?”

“The public likes to see a supportive spouse. I need to ramp up support. You know the spiel. You’ve lived in the fishbowl. You’re still on hiatus from the hospital. And you haven’t told them when you plan to return.”

“The polls indicate you’re doing very well and it’s not because of me. It’s because of my father and his support for your run. You don’t need me. My father is more invested in your success than I am.”

Melanie looked away, stung by his words.

Bucky exhaled and a hand through his hair in exasperation. “Mel, I didn’t mean it that way. You’ve always known I have no interest in politics. As a political ally, he’s more valuable than me. I add no political clout whatsoever aside from the fact that I’m his only son. That doesn’t mean anything as far as I’m concerned.”

“James, please,” she sighed. “That’s not the point.”

“What is the point, then?”

She stood up. “You’re my husband,” she answered with frustration. “Act like one.”

Silence descended upon them. Bucky stared at her. “Are those your words or my father’s words?”

Melanie looked away, embarrassed that she had used George’s words. “You didn’t have a problem before,” she said calmly. She looked him in the eyes. “When we agreed to marry, you didn’t have a problem with it, then.”

“We made a mistake, Mel,” Bucky stated. “We allowed ourselves to be talked into a marriage that only exists on paper. We sleep in separate beds. You know I prefer men, and that’s not ever going to change. You deserve better. We should have never done it.”

Melanie looked away again. Her heart foolishly racing at those words. 

“Mel, we’re trapped. Almost six years of marriage that has amounted to nothing. We need to fix it.”

“What do you mean by ‘fix it’?”

“After the election is over, regardless of the results, we should quietly separate. And after a year, file for divorce.”

She frowned, thinking about the suggestion.

Taking her silence as a cue to keep talking, Bucky continued. “Once you’re in office, you won’t need my father’s support or clout. You’ll be building your own clout, and we can step out from under my father’s shadow and influence. We’ll be free to go our own way.”

She remained silent.

“I know it’s a lot but just think about it,” said Bucky. “We need to fix this. You know we can’t keep going on like this.”

Melanie nodded. “I’ll think about it. I apologize for coming in here. I’ll just go.”

Walking out of Bucky’s bedroom, the tears started to well up. The pang of regrets and mistakes made surged to the forefront. At that moment, she hated herself. At that moment, she regretted ever meeting the Barnes family.

• • • • •

Walking into Howlies Diner, Steve spotted Sam sitting in the corner booth. Sam nodded at him as he made his way to the booth. Steve noticed Sam’s not-quite-relaxed posture was in contrast to the smile Steve was giving as he approached. He appeared to have just gotten off duty, looking casual in the white-grey shirt with the two top buttons undone and rolled up sleeves. The silver choker chain Riley gave him as a birthday present, peeked out from under the shirt. Sam slid out of the booth to greet him.

“Hey,” Steve spoke, arms open to give Sam a hug. “Good to see you, man.”

“Good to see you, too, Steve.”

“So, what’s going on?” Steve asked as he slid into the booth. “You sounded serious on the phone.”

“Are you familiar with Thomas and Elizabeth Chamberlain?”

Steve paused for a second. He couldn’t lie to his childhood friend. “I met them once. Maybe three or four weeks ago.” 

“Are you aware that Elizabeth Chamberlain is dead?”

“Yeah, I read that this morning.”

“Then you should know that I’ve been given the case. I interviewed her husband this morning, and we asked him to put together a list of individuals who had been invited to their home in the last six months. Your name came up on his list.” 

Seeing Steve’s name on Chamberlain’s list had pained Sam. He knew he should remove himself from the case, but he couldn’t do it. The decision to stick with the case was made easier when nobody, aside from Riley, knew he and Steve were old friends. 

“Naturally, I’m a suspect now.” Despite the fact that he wasn’t surprised Chamberlain had named him as someone who had been inside the house, Steve still bristled at being mentioned.

“No. You’re simply a person of interest. Not a suspect.”

Steve worked his jaw. “Yet.”

A server walked up to their booth. “Hi. Are you gentlemen ready to order?”

“Yeah, sure,” Steve began. “I’ll have the peach cobbler and a coffee, please.”

“I’ll just have a coffee, thanks,” Sam informed the server who then promptly left.

Sam placed his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “Are you saying there might be a reason to consider you a suspect?”

Steve looked straight into Sam’s eyes. “No, I’m telling you there isn’t a reason to make you think that. But it’s Chamberlain, so I wouldn’t be surprised if he deflects suspicion off of himself.”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “What are you saying?”

It was at this moment, the server returned with the cobbler and two cups of coffee. Sam and Steve thanked the server before returning to their conversation.

“Shouldn’t I be down at the precinct being interviewed by you instead of talking to you here?”

“This is just you and me. No one else. Like we were when we were back in Brooklyn, okay? The fact you’re part of this investigation changes how I proceed with it.”

“It shouldn’t change anything, Sam. Don’t give me special dispensation just because you know me. Treat me like you would as if I was any person of interest or suspect. I don’t want you getting into trouble because of it. You’re too good to be pulled off the case or suspended.”

“I know how to navigate this, Steve. I’m going to handle this investigation as I see fit.”

They locked eyes for a moment before Steve nodded his understanding. 

“Okay, what do you want to know?”

“What did you mean by not being surprised if Chamberlain deflects suspicion away from himself?”

“He’s abusive.”

“And you know this from the one time you met them?”

Steve nodded. “I was doing a favor for someone I used to work for. Alexander Pierce. He said Chamberlain needed someone for his wife. I went in not knowing what he wanted. I had assumed it was for his wife only.” He paused for a moment. “Let’s just say the guy’s into voyeurism and likes to call the shots. He was leaning towards asking me to do things I wasn’t okay with.”

“How did the night end?”

“I punched him and took her out of there to a shelter. I made sure she was settled, and I left. She had talked about going to San Diego because that’s where her family lives. I can give you the name of the shelter for verification. You can ask that asshole about that night if he hasn’t mentioned it already.”

“He never said anything when he handed over the list,” Sam noted. “He didn’t say anything at all, to be honest. But I guarantee that I’ll be asking him about it.”

Steve dug into the cobbler, taking a couple of bites before asking his next question.

“How did she die?”

“Preliminary report says she was beaten, sexually assaulted and killed with a blunt object. Forensics has a lot of evidence to process, and they haven’t determined what was used yet.”

Steve’s gut tightened. As tasty as the cobbler was, he didn’t feel like eating anymore. He placed the spoon beside the dish and gulped his coffee.

“I honestly thought she would have gotten away from him,” he said quietly. “I honestly thought she had a chance.”

Sam sympathized. He knew about the history of Steve’s parents. Based on that and his friendship with Steve, there was no way he would lie about something that serious about Elizabeth Chamberlain. He couldn’t imagine it.

“We’ll figure it out. Don’t worry… Where you were the night she died?”

“I was with someone.”

“Was this work?”

“No, I wasn’t working.”

“So, it shouldn’t be a problem giving me the name of the person you were with for corroboration.”

Steve didn’t respond. Sam leaned back from the table, looking mildly disappointed.

“Are you shittin’ me?” Sam asked. “You said you weren’t working.”

“I wasn’t,” Steve answered defensively. “I don’t want to give you his name.”

“Why? What makes him so special that you can’t give me his name so we can eliminate you as a potential suspect?”

Sam was met with silence again. He watched his old friend fidget. “He’s someone important, isn’t he?”

Steve continued to remain silent.

“He’s either high-profile or connected to someone high-profile, isn’t he? And nobody knows about his sexuality.”

Steve picked up his spoon and started digging into the cobbler again. Sam shook his head in annoyance at Steve’s stubbornness.

“Fine, I get it,” Sam continued. “But you need an alibi. I need to clear you. Just talk to him, okay? I know you, Steven Grant Rogers. Don’t protect him if he doesn’t want to be protected. Let him choose. Don’t make the decision for him.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Steve replied. The least he could do was try to appease his friend.

“I know you’re just saying that to shut me up.”

Steve looked up from his cobbler to see the resigned but fond expression on Sam’s face. He offered a wry smile in return.

“You know you can do better than what you’re doing now, right?”

“Are we going there again?” Steve asked.

“Yes, we are. Every couple of months, I have to have this discussion with you. You’re an artist, not a sex worker. You should be doing something with that degree you earned.”

“You’re not frowning on sex workers, are you?”

“No, I’m not. I enforce the laws, I don’t write them. The fact of the matter is society still demonizes sex workers without addressing the actual reason they exist. I don’t want you demonized for the choices you make.”

“We’re all demonized for the choices we make, Sam. I’m still creating art when I’m not working. I’m just not ready to transition to doing that full-time.”

“What’s stopping you? The money you’re making now?”

“No.”

“What is it then?”

“I need a reason to walk away from this.”

Sam squinted at Steve. “Well, I think this murder investigation should be a good enough reason to walk away. Just give me an alibi for the night Elizabeth Chamberlain died, and you can start thinking about walking away.”

• • • • •

“Bucky! What a surprise, my dear.”

Smiling, he walked up onto the porch, kissed the older woman on the cheek, and gave her a hug. “Hi, mom.”

“I wasn’t expecting you,” said Winifred Barnes as she removed her gardening gloves. “What brings you here? Is Melanie with you?”

“No, she didn’t come with me. She’s busy right now. I came to see you, mom. Is dad around?”

“No, he isn’t. He left for the airport an hour ago. Off to DC. You’re free to speak your mind.”

“Have you seen Becca?”

“She’s doing fine,” she replied, patting her hand on his arm. “Her family is doing fine. You would know that if you called her. No need to make small talk. Let’s get some lemonade and then we’ll get down to the reason you’re here.”

After pouring lemonade into a pair of tall glasses, mother and son walked back outside and sat on the porch swing to take in the view of the Pacific Ocean.

“So, my darling boy. Why did you come to see me?”

“I told Mel I wanted a divorce after the election is over. This marriage was a bad idea from the start. I was too confused and weak to say no when Dad came up with it.”

“How did she take it?”

“She wasn’t surprised. Just wasn’t anticipating because of the timing of everything. I wasn’t surprised; she seemed sad about it.”

“She is very fond of you despite the fact you won’t ever be a true husband to her. Maybe, there’s a way to remain friends after the divorce goes through.”

“I doubt that will happen. She might not want that. I don’t even know if I want that.”

Winifred was quiet for a moment, the ocean breeze playing with the still dark caramel tendrils framing her face. “I fought your father on the idea of you and Melanie marrying,” she confessed. “I told him he couldn’t arrange a marriage. I told him to drag his head out of the dark ages.”

“Why does Dad pretend to be in support of LGBTQ rights when he can’t even admit to anyone that I’m gay? Sometimes he looks at me as if something’s wrong with me. Like I’m defective.”

“You’re not defective, Bucky,”

“I know I’m not. It took me a while to figure that out. Why can’t Dad understand that? Why can’t he accept me?”

“I don’t have an answer. But I don’t think he was always like this.”

“Mom, you can’t _not_ be homophobic one day and then be homophobic the next. You know that’s not how this works.”

His mother sighed, taking another sip of her lemonade. “I know it’s not how it works. Maybe I’m just lying to myself about how close-minded your father really is. I always hoped he would love you unconditionally because you’re his flesh and blood. You are our firstborn. I thought that would mean something to him.”

“Has Dad ever been physical with you?”

Winifred’s eyes widened, gobsmacked by the question. “No. He has never raised his hand at me. I would have thrown something at his head if he pulled that nonsense on me. Why would you even ask that question?”

“There’s someone I’m seeing.”

She raised her eyebrows at him, not so much out of shock but out of surprise. “May I ask what is the boy’s name?”

“His name is Steve.”

She smiled. “I’m gonna take a wild guess that I’ve never met him before.”

“Well… he was at Melanie’s gala dinner fundraiser. He was Margaret Carter’s date.”

“Ah, the family friend,” she remembered. Bucky could see she was trying to recall Steve’s face. “I think I only saw him from a distance, but he looked very handsome in that dark blue suit. Very flattering. You met that night?”

“No, we met before. Before he figured out who I was that night.”

This confused Winifred for a second. “You didn’t tell him who you were? I bet that was a surprise at the gala.”

Bucky’s skin pinkened. “Ahh, yeah, it was.” He thought for a moment. “Why aren’t you reading me the riot act for cheating on Melanie?”

Her eyes were soft as she looked at him, threading her fingers through his hair. 

“I would read you the riot act, but this marriage is built on smoke and mirrors. I know you’re unhappy. And if Melanie would stop to think, she would realize she’s unhappy, too. Running for congress is shielding her from getting a good grasp of that.” She paused. “If you found someone who makes this situation more bearable, I’m not going to tell you to walk away from someone who genuinely makes you happy.”

“Dad knows about Steve. He says if it becomes public knowledge, it’ll ruin Melanie’s chances. I’ll end up humiliating her. I know what Melanie wants. I’m not going to ruin it for her. It’s the least I can do. He says I need to stop. He’s threatening to put an end to it.”

Her brows furrowed. “And how does he propose to do that?”

“I don’t know. It sounded like he would hurt Steve, Mom.”

She placed her hand on his knee and gave it a rub. “Oh, Bucky. I don’t think he’s capable of doing that. He’s a lot of bluster, but I’ve never known him to cross the line.”

“How can you be sure of that? Maybe nobody has pushed the right button. Maybe I found that button.”

“Do not think of your father like that, James Buchanan Barnes. He may be a lot of things, but to think he could be that malicious and malevolent, I have a hard time believing he would take that step.”

“I don’t know, Mom.”

“I do know, Bucky. Trust me. I don’t, and I won’t believe your father to be anything more than all-talk on this matter. Do you hear me?”

“Yeah, I hear you.”

“Good. Now give your mother a hug.”

Bucky smiled. “Okay.”

Winifred hugged her son tightly, trying to convey that everything would turn out alright. Bucky relaxed into the comfort of his mother’s arms, loving the fact that no matter how old he was, his mother still insisted on giving him hugs. 

His mother loosened her arms, leaning back far enough to see her son’s face. 

“So, what are the chances of introducing Steve to your mother?” she smiled. 

• • • • •

Pulling into Nat’s driveway after his conversation with Sam, Steve hopped out of the car and buzzed the intercom.

“Hello?”

“Nat, it’s me. We need to chat.”

The door unlocked at the sound of the buzzer. Walking up the steps, Nat opened the door, concern written all over her face. 

“You’re lucky I’m not busy tonight. Is there a problem?” She stepped aside to let Steve into her home.

“There might be. And I might need your help.”

They headed into her kitchen. “Okay, what is it?”

“You heard the news about Elizabeth Chamberlain, right? Thomas Chamberlain is her husband.”

“Yes, I have. I’m also familiar with her husband. He used to be a client of mine.”

“Used to be? What do you mean?”

“This was before you started working for me. Before he got married. He started out fine. Was a good client. A good trick if you want to call him that. Then I started hearing from the girls that he made them feel uncomfortable with his… requests. They weren’t feeling safe. I had a conversation with him in person. I brought Clint with me.”

“For protection?”

“And to intimidate if Chamberlain decided to get aggressive during the conversation.” 

“After our talk, I told him he was persona non-grata. He would have to do business with someone else. I wasn’t going to endanger the girls for his pleasure. What do the Chamberlains have to do with your problem?”

“The police are looking at me as a person of interest.”

Nat tilted her head, puzzled. “Why would they do that?”

“I met with the Chamberlains as a favor for Pierce about a month ago. He’s one of Pierce’s clients. The police asked him to provide a list of people who have been to his residence recently.”

The puzzlement marking her expression transitioned to surprise, disgust, and disappointment. 

“Jesus Christ, I really didn’t think you would ever do a favor for Pierce after you left him. You know what he was like and what he still is.” She grabbed her glass of wine sitting on the kitchen counter. “I can’t even get mad, Steve. Getting mad at you is unproductive. I just don’t know what to say.”

“I’d be fine if you were pissed at me.”

“What were you thinking?”

“I wasn’t. I admit it.”

“And now here you are with the police knocking on your door.”

“If it’s any consolation to you, I couldn’t go through with the job.”

“What do you mean?”

“He was abusing her. He had been using Pierce’s boys to beat her, so he never had to lay a hand on her. He just watched.”

Nat bristled in anger. 

“He wanted you to beat her?”

“He was leaning that way. Pierce told me I was entertaining his wife. I wasn’t expecting Chamberlain’s penchant for voyeurism and his need to control how I interacted with his wife. Pierce never indicated he was like this. I saw her bruises, and that was it. I stopped. He got angry. I punched him and left with her and tried to help her get away from him.”

“He deserves more than a punch,” she said darkly. She took another sip of her wine. “How do you need me to help you?”

“I need an alibi.”

“Why? Did you kill her?”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, no.”

“I didn’t mean to insult you, Steve. I was being sarcastic. If you didn’t kill her, where were you? Were you by yourself?”

“No, I was with someone.”

“You can’t use this person as your alibi?”

“I can’t drag them into this. It’ll become problematic.”

“Okay, but have you talked to this person about the police looking at you as someone of interest?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Don’t want to burden them. I can take care of this myself.”

“You’re a bit of a martyr, aren’t you?”

“Am not. I’m innocent, but I need an alibi.” 

She regarded him for a moment. “Are you still good to go for Señora Alvarado?”

“Yes, of course. I haven’t forgotten.”

She knew he was going to take the more difficult route to get out of whatever mess he found himself in. “Okay. Let me see what I can do.”

• • • • •

After his conversations with Sam and Nat, Steve found the day had been running far too long. All he wanted to do after he parked his car was to go up to his place, turn on some music, and tune out the world. Exiting the underground parking, a voice called out to him.

“Steve!” 

He turned in the direction of the voice. A willowy, dark strawberry blond woman was walking quickly towards him. “Hey, Wanda. You’re still here.”

“Yeah, I have to apologize. I couldn’t reach you. Did you shut off your phone?”

“Yeah, I did. I had a lot of stuff to do today, and I didn’t want any distractions. What are you apologizing for?”

“The police came by.”

Steve’s eyebrows furrowed. His mouth opened, but he couldn’t say a word.

“They had a search warrant,” the property manager continued as she fidgeted with her fingers. “I couldn’t stop them. They were in your place for two hours before they left.”

“Did they remove anything?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t see anything that belonged to you. I’m sorry.”

Steve rubbed the back of his neck. “I assume the neighbors noticed.”

“Only the ones who are normally nosy about their neighbors. Everybody else was at work or doing something else. No one is going to ask you to leave if you’re concerned.”

“No, it’s not that. I have to think of something to say if anyone asks me about the city’s finest rummaging through my place.” He placed his hand on Wanda’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “Thanks for the heads up. Can’t wait to see what they’ve done to the place. I’m sure the makeover is breath-taking.”

A small smile appeared on her lips, appreciating his attempt at lightening her mood. “Let me know if there are any damages,” Wanda said. “I’ll send the bill to the LAPD.”

• • • • •

Entering the condo, Steve was surprised to find the place had not been turned into a disaster area during the search. Stuff had been moved around, but nothing seemed to have been trashed. So far. The search warrant lay on top of the kitchen counter. He picked it up to read it. It looked straight-forward. He was going to have his lawyer take a look at it. 

Illuminated by the ambient light from the setting sun, Steve walked along the perimeter of the condo, examining his drawings still hanging on the wall, making sure they had not been damaged. He switched on the floor lamp, adding more light to the place.

The furniture had not been moved, but the seat cushions had been tossed onto the floor. He reached into the crevices of the sofa and loveseat, not searching for anything in particular but also not wanting to find something that didn’t belong. Satisfied that he found nothing, he placed the cushions back to their rightful spots. He stepped out onto the balcony, checking for oddities.

The kitchen cupboard doors were left open, revealing dishes and items had been disturbed. Steve groaned. He was going to have to clear out the cupboards and reorganize them again. That would be for tomorrow. He opened the fridge. Much to his relief, nothing had been disturbed. 

The bathroom looked neat and tidy. But upon closer inspection, Steve noticed they had examined the toilet tank, checking to see if he had hidden anything inside it. The linen closet offered the officers nothing, so it was left intact.

The bedroom looked to be the epicentre of the search. The blinds were pulled to the top of the window sill. The mattress sat askew on the boxspring. And the duvet and pillows lay crumpled on the dark wood floor. The nightstand drawers were pulled out and sitting on the floor. The dresser drawers were closed hiding the fact they had been rifled through during the search. The always immaculate closet was in disarray. Steve chewed his lower lip, feeling his shoulders tighten. Fishing out his phone from his pants pocket, he made a phone call.

“Steve?”

“Did you know about the search warrant?” he asked, trying not to sound disappointed. He was more tired than anything else. “Was that the real reason you asked me to meet you today? To get me out of here while they snooped around?”

“No, it wasn’t,” Sam replied. “Everything is explained in the search warrant. I didn’t want to get it issued, but there was information we received. I had no choice.”

“Did they find something? Am I a suspect now?”

“I haven’t seen the results from the search. Even if I did, I can’t tell you one way or the other.”

“You know my bedroom is a mess.” Steve ran his fingers through his hair.

“I told them to be respectful. You know that if anything was damaged. We’ll pay for the replacement and any repairs.”

“Were you here for the search?”

“No. I had someone else from the team oversee the execution of the warrant.”

“Whoever you sent is a fucking idiot. I was impressed they didn’t tear the place apart until I got to the bedroom.”

“Man, I’m sorry. I’ll have a word with him. Do you need help cleaning up?”

“No, it’s manageable. Just gotta do laundry and re-organize stuff. I should have known this was a possibility.”

“Like I said before, give me an alibi that can be corroborated and I’ll clear you.”

“I know, Sam. I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be posted Tuesday.


	6. Feel something so right by doing the wrong thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky learns Steve is a suspect in a murder case. Steve discovers a witness has placed him at the scene on the night of the murder. Bucky tells Melanie about Steve. And George Barnes learns something from Steve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the interest in this story. We greatly appreciate the support. Three more chapters after this as things continue to get interesting. 
> 
> Stucky1980 has provided some eye candy of the boys for this chapter. This is one has a bit of a split screen flavour. Just know that Bucky is getting an eyeful of Steve's backside. 
> 
> You're welcome, folks :)
> 
> No warnings here unless you count angst as something to warn against :)

Bucky walked out of Steve’s bathroom, freshly showered, barefoot, shirtless, and wearing jeans. His shirt was still lying on the floor next to the bed. Making his way into the kitchen, he quietly ambled up behind Steve, who was buttering the toast for their breakfast of bacon, eggs, and pan-fried potatoes. Steve hadn’t bothered to pull on a pair of sweats, opting to make breakfast in nothing but a grey ribbed cotton tank top and dark blue boxers.

Bucky smiled at the sight of the man in front of him. His arms snaked around Steve, gently pulling him into a hug. He kissed the nape of his neck. Steve hummed his approval.

“Good morning, Buck,” he grinned, turning his head to catch Bucky’s eyes. “I hope you’re hungry. I cooked up extra bacon.”

Bucky looked over Steve’s shoulder and down at the two plates. He reached out to grab a crispy slice and bit into it. 

“Perfect,” Bucky complimented. “Just like the cook.”

“And you accuse me of being a sap,” Steve teased. “Jerk.”

Bucky licked the spot where jawline and ear met before releasing Steve and pouring the orange juice into two glasses sitting on the kitchen counter.

“Ew, that was gross, Buck,” Steve complained with a smile, rubbing the spot with his shoulder.

“Just keeping the theme alive from last night,” Bucky replied salaciously, taking the two glasses out to the balcony.

“Last night was far from gross, punk. But I think I smell like bacon now.” Steve followed close behind with the food.

“Well, you were the one standing over the stove cooking the bacon. Can’t argue with that.”

Steve swiped at the spot with his hand after putting the plates on the table. He felt a bacon bit barely clinging onto his skin. He picked it off and flicked it at Bucky.

“Hey,” Bucky protested. “What the hell was that?”

“The bacon bit you left on me when you licked me. You should swallow before you lick any part of me.”

“Did you hear yourself just now?” Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Shush, eat your breakfast,” Steve grinned.

Bucky smiled and bit into another slice of bacon. They ate in companionable silence until Steve’s mobile rang. Steve glanced at the caller ID before answering.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“Steve, I need you to come down for a police lineup. Bring your lawyer.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah. This afternoon. Be here after one.”

“Fuck.” Steve felt his stomach clench.

“I’m sorry, man.”

“No, it’s fine. I really need to stop being surprised by all of this. I’ll see you later.”

Ending the call, Steve turned his gaze towards Bucky who wore a look of concern on his face.

“What was that all about?”

“You heard about Elizabeth Chamberlain’s murder, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I’m a suspect.”

Bucky stared at him, expressionless in disbelief.

“A few days ago, the police came by with a search warrant while I was out and went through everything. And now I have to be part of a police lineup this afternoon.”

“This is fucking ridiculous.” Bucky paused to think for a moment. His eyes lit up. He looked Steve in the eyes. “You were with me the night she was killed.”

Steve nodded.

“I’m your fucking alibi. Tell them that. They shouldn’t be looking at you for Christ’s sake.”

“Not doing that.”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean you’re not doing that?”

“I’m not going to name you. I have this under control.”

“Under control? How does going in for a police lineup signify things as being under control?” Bucky hadn’t raised his voice yet. He was still trying to wrap his head around what Steve was admitting.

“Buck, I name you, and everything turns into a media circus,” Steve said adamantly. “They’ll be all over you and Melanie. This is going to derail everything she’s worked for, and they’re going to be ruthless with you and your family. I can’t let it go down that path. It won’t do anybody any good.”

“And you going it alone won’t do you or me any good,” Bucky responded with a slight growl. “Tell them you were with me. I can handle the fallout.”

“Your family won’t be able to handle the fallout. I don’t care how seasoned a politician your father is. This is going to end badly for everyone. If it’s just me, it’s only me. No one else.”

“You’re an idiot.”

“I’m an idiot… for wanting to protect you?”

“Yes. Don’t martyr yourself for me. I don’t want to lose you.” Bucky got up from the table and went inside. 

Steve sighed. He got up and followed him into the bedroom where Bucky grabbed his shirt, putting it on as he searched for his socks. Steve grabbed his arm.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Bucky wrenched his arm out of Steve’s grasp. “I’m going to see whoever is in charge of the investigation and tell him that you didn’t do it because I was with you.” He attempted to walk past Steve, but the man stuck with him every step. He kept trying to maneuver around him until Steve grabbed his shoulders, stilling him.

“Don’t. Please, don’t.”

“Why?”

“I know what I’m doing. I’ll have an alibi figured out without getting you involved.”

Bucky stared at him with his mouth gaped open. “I don’t want to know how you’re going to do that.” 

“Yeah, you’re right. It would be best if you didn’t, Buck. Trust me.”

Bucky warred between the idea of trusting him and the nagging need to save Steve from himself and whatever plan he was hatching to get out this mess. As if Steve understood the turmoil roiling inside Bucky’s head, he pulled him into a hug.

“I care about you, damnit,” Steve growled into his ear. “Please, trust me. There’s a way out of this. I know there is.”

Bucky held on tightly to Steve. “What if there isn’t?”

“Don’t think that way.” Steve leaned back enough to cradle Bucky’s face and kiss him. Bucky kissed back, digging his fingers into Steve’s shoulder and back, eager to show how much he meant to him. Their foreheads pressed together afterwards. “Come on,” Steve said gently, taking Bucky’s hand. “The food is getting cold.”

“You’re gonna handle this in your own bull-headed way, aren’t you?” 

“Yeah, I am.”

• • • • •

Sitting in an interview room at LAPD headquarters, Steve and his attorney, Bruce Banner waited for Sam to arrive.

“Any wild guesses about why we’re back here?” Steve asked. “I did the police lineup yesterday, and that went off without a hitch. But then, they asked us to come back for a meeting. Couldn’t we have had that conversation yesterday?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Bruce replied. “There are only two reasons we’re having this meeting. And I’d rather it would be the first one.”

“Which is…”

“No one could identify you from the lineup.”

The door opened. Sam, carrying a folder under his arm, was the first person to walk in. The next was an Asian woman wearing a light grey dress suit. The last person was an African-American man looking imposing with the eye patch he sported. 

“Gentlemen, thanks for coming down to meet us,” Sam began. He gestured to the woman and the other man standing beside him. “This is Assistant District Attorney Helen Cho and Captain Nicholas Fury.”

After the introductions were made, Steve felt his shoulders go heavy. His gut was telling him this was not going to go in his favor. His eyes flitted from Fury to Cho to Sam, who looked solemn and a little unhappy with the proceedings.

“You’ve been identified, Steve,” Sam announced. 

“The witness couldn’t identify Steve from the lineup,” Bruce interjected. “She wasn’t sure. How could she have identified him?”

Steve’s heart fell into the pit of his stomach. His mind clouded with Sam’s words. “Who saw me? Who the hell could have identified me?”

“She identified his car,” Sam answered, tilting his head towards Steve, meeting his eyes. “The witness stated that she saw you drive onto the Chamberlains’ property around nine on the evening of June 22nd.”

“Did she give you the licence plate number?” Bruce asked.

“No, she didn’t, but it was the same make and model that Steve drives,” Sam replied.

“That’s not enough to vilify my client,” Bruce commented.

Steve was stunned. “Fuck. I don’t understand,” he blurted out. “Who would say this about me? I don’t know anybody who would say this about me. I wasn’t there.” 

He noticed Fury and Cho listening stoically to the conversation, allowing Sam to run the meeting, opting to not wade into the conversation just yet.

“I agree that might not be enough to be problematic for Steve, Mr. Banner,” Sam continued. “But we haven’t discussed the search warrant we executed to enter his home yet.”

“And what did you find in that search?” Bruce inquired.

Sam pulled out a ziplock bag holding a roll of hundred-dollar bills from an evidence envelope that was tucked in the folder. He placed it in front of Steve. “Recognize this?”

“No. Am I supposed to?” he sniped.

“This was found under your mattress. Mrs. Chamberlain’s fingerprints were all over them.”

“Bullshit. The last time I kept anything under my mattress was a _Hustler_ magazine when I was sixteen years old. I was hiding it from my Ma. Did you find her jewelry?”

“What are you talking about?”

“I read the news reports in the paper and online,” Steve said heatedly. “Aside from the money, jewelry was reported missing from the home. Someone broke into my home and planted that money. And whoever planted that money, has the jewelry, too.”

“Has it occurred to anyone in the department that someone might be out to frame my client for Mrs. Chamberlain’s murder?” Bruce asked, attempting to diffuse the tension in the room.

“It did occur to us,” answered Sam.

“Uh, huh… right,” Bruce said skeptically.

“Did you look into Chamberlain himself?” Steve chimed in.

“He has an alibi that was corroborated,” Sam responded.

Steve shook his head, giving Sam a wry smile. “Of course, he did. So what if he has an alibi. That means jackshit. What about— ”

“Stop deflecting,” Sam warned.

“What about Alexander Pierce?” Steve barrelled on. “He was the one who sent me out to the Chamberlains.”

“We did have a word with him. He had nothing but good things to say about you. Said you were a high-class act.”

Steve snorted. “He’s a fucking dick. What do you think, Detective Wilson?” He noticed something flash across Sam’s face.

“Regardless of your self-proclaimed innocence, the evidence is starting to point to you as Mrs. Chamberlain’s killer.”

“No, I’m asking, what do _you_ think?”

Sam paused for a moment, recognizing that Steve wanted to know his personal assessment of the situation. An assessment he couldn’t share in front of Banner, Cho, and Fury.

“What I think doesn’t matter,” Sam replied evenly. “That’s for a judge and jury to determine.”

“Then this conversation is done,” Bruce interrupted. Steve continued to stare at Sam. “If you want to continue talking to my client, I request that you formally charge my client; otherwise, we are leaving right now.” 

Cho spoke up for the first time since she arrived. “Even though we think Steve is guilty, we’re not going to arrest him.”

“If you are being framed,” Fury added. “You’ll be more useful to us loose on the streets than locked away waiting for your court hearing. If you are being set up, whoever is responsible won’t like that you’re still walking free and that will force their hand.”

Bruce regarded the trio for a moment. “Okay, are we free to go now?”

• • • • •

“That went well,” Steve remarked, as he and Bruce walked away from the building.

“Are you serious?” Bruce asked, his eyebrows raised. “Finding that money in your home isn’t helping your claim of innocence. And not saying who was with you the night Mrs. Chamberlain died is completely asinine. You’re digging your own grave. I’ve never represented a person so hellbent on taking the hardest route possible to get out of a dire situation. You take the cake.”

“It’s not dire yet, and I’m not completely ignoring your advice, Bruce,” Steve said, trying to allay his lawyer’s concerns. “I’ll figure this out.”

“You better find a horseshoe up your ass if things start to heat up even more for you. I don’t know what I’m going to do with you. Your mother would be rolling over in her grave right now.”

“She would have appreciated your efforts. You’re doing your best, and I’m not making it easy. I know that.”

Bruce sighed. “Listen. Whoever you’re protecting, whoever you’re trying to keep out of this mess had better be worth the trouble you’re putting yourself through.”

“He is.”

• • • • •

Steve rolled into the parking lot adjacent to Howlies. Sam had texted him an hour after he left the interview, wanting to meet up again. No specifics. Just a request to meet him. As he climbed out of his car, Sam pulled into the lot and parked next to Steve’s car.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Sam replied. “Let’s head inside.”

Seated in their usual booth, they quickly ordered burgers and sweet potato fries before settling into a much-needed conversation.

“I know you wanted to say something during the meeting,” Steve began. “What did you want to say?”

“I do believe you’re being set up for Chamberlain’s murder,” Sam replied. 

Steve relaxed. “Thank you for believing me, Sam. You had me going back at the meeting, thinking I was royally fucked.”

“You might still be royally fucked. Don’t think of me as your saviour yet. I just need to look a little deeper to find the evidence. I have a couple of people examining Pierce’s and Chamberlain’s financial records. And I have someone looking into a couple of hunches I have. Something’s missing. The dots aren’t connecting. I think there’s another party involved. Someone we haven’t thought of. Someone who would be totally under the radar.”

“Does your captain or the assistant district attorney know you’re chasing your hunches?”

“Fury knows I’m digging. Helen doesn’t know only because I don’t have anything that would convince her of the probability that you’re innocent.”

Steve was quiet for a moment. “Alright, is there anything I can do to help you?”

“I need to know if you can think of anyone, aside from Chamberlain or Pierce, who would have a vested interest in seeing you go to prison? Have you crossed any other clients?”

“No, I’m good at my job.” Steve bit his lower lip. “I can’t think of anyone.”

• • • • •

Next morning, the sun’s golden rays shone down on the Venice Beach boardwalk. Steve needed a walk to clear his head after the previous day’s revelations had left him with a night of restless sleep. He laid awake in the middle of the night, wanting to call Bucky. But he didn’t have the heart to disturb him. Plus, he didn’t want Bucky worrying about him more than he already did.

His restlessness led him to the boardwalk. A desire to get lost in a crowd and be lost in his thoughts. Enjoying the anonymity didn’t last for long. Fifteen minutes into roaming the boardwalk, Steve had a feeling someone was watching him. It didn’t take long to confirm that someone was following him. The man following him was of similar height with a slight build. He looked to be several years younger than Steve. He continued walking along Pacific Avenue, leading the man away from the beach. He turned a corner, quickly hiding behind a building’s archway pillar. As soon as the man was in his sight, Steve grabbed him and slammed him against the post.

“You’re really not good at this,” Steve growled.

“What are you talking about?” the surprised would-be stalker asked.

“You suck at following people.” Steve tightened his hold on the man’s shoulders, making him wince in discomfort. “Actually, it’s really fucking lousy. Who the fuck are you?”

“I was minding my own business,” the man squawked. “Let me go.”

“God, you’re fucking terrible liar. You can’t be a cop. They’re better at tailing people. Who are you?”

The man physically faltered. “Please, let me go, or I’ll call the police.”

“Go right ahead. I’m pretty tight with them right now. I’m sure they would love to talk to you about me. Show me some ID. I should at least call you by your name.” 

The man fished out his wallet from his back pocket, opened it, and handed it over his driver’s licence to Steve. Keeping a grip on the man’s shoulder, Steve read the name on the licence.

“Bradley Tomlinson.” Steve looked at the man. “Well, Bradley, what else do you have in your wallet?”

The man handed over several more pieces of identification. Steve released his grip on Bradley’s shoulder. The man chose not to run, knowing Steve would quickly tackle him to the ground. 

“Let’s see what else you got here… California State Congressional library pass. California State identification. California State senate pass… Senator George Barnes…”

Steve stopped breathing for a second. The man worked for Bucky’s father and the implications it carried, hit him like a punch to the gut. He stared at Bradley. 

“You work for Senator George Barnes?”

“Yes.”

“Did the senator ask you to follow me?”

“Yes.”

“If Senator Barnes wanted to know about my private life, why didn’t he bother to ask me himself?”

Bradley shook his head, not knowing the answer to the question.

Steve grew livid. “You know what? I’m going to make this real easy for you. Give me your phone.” 

After Bradley handed it over, Steve punch in some numbers. “I’ve added my phone number to your contacts,” he stated, returning the phone. “Now, you tell the Senator if he wants to talk to me, he can give me a call. Got that?”

Bradley nodded.

“Good. Now fuck off and leave me alone.”

• • • • •

Mulling around in the kitchen, mindlessly taking the last bite of an apple, the doorbell rang, pulling Bucky out of his thoughts about Steve. Upon opening the door, he found his father standing before him.

“Hi, son. I came straight here from the airport. May I come in?”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders. “Sure. Why not? I’ll tell Mel that you’re here.” He turned to go up the stairs to inform her of his father’s presence.

“I’m not here to talk to your wife,” his father said. “I’m here to talk to you.”

Bucky stopped in his tracks. His chest tightened. He schooled his face before turning in his father’s direction.

“Oh? Lucky me. What did you want to talk to me about?”

“Well, James. With Melanie getting busier with the campaign, I think it would be best if she didn’t have any distractions.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I was thinking you could take on a humanitarian medical posting with one of those Doctors Without Borders type organizations you like working with and come back about a week before the election. Stay out of the spotlight for a while.”

Slowly flexing his hands in agitation, Bucky resented how quickly he allowed his father to get under his skin. He took a couple of breaths before he spoke.

“The postings are decided and assigned months in advance,” Bucky said calmly. “Also, the postings last a minimum of one year. I can’t just up and leave for a few months on your whim. If you wanted me to disappear, you should have thought about that before you convinced Mel to run for congress. I would have been out of everybody’s hair months ago.”

“Yes, well, I should have looked at that sooner. It would have solved the problem of Steve Rogers.”

Bucky’s jaw tightened. “We are not going to talk about Steve right now. Did you discuss the idea of me going away with Mel? Does she even know you’re talking to me about this?”

“We are going to talk about Steve and no, I didn’t talk to Melanie yet. I thought I would be pre-emptive.”

“That’s just fucking rich, Dad. If Mel wants me to keep a low profile, she can talk to me. I’m not talking to you about it. Keep your nose out of our marriage.”

“James, watch that mouth of yours. Do not talk to me that way. ”

“And with regards to Steve, we’re still going to see each other, and we are not planning to stop any time soon. If you want me to keep a low profile, I’ll go live with Steve until the primaries are over.”

His father’s face reddened. Taking a couple of steps towards his son. He snarled at his son.

“Do you think this is funny?”

“On the contrary. I am taking this very seriously,” Bucky bit back. “Look at it this way. I won’t be a distraction for Mel, and I get to spend more time with Steve. A win-win situation the way I see it.”

“If you think you can flaunt this relationship in front of your wife and your family— ”

“I have no intention of flaunting my relationship with Steve. I said I would stay out of the public eye.”

“This will be the biggest mistake of your life. I’ll see to it that Steve is out of the picture.”

Bucky paused. “Is that a threat?” His voice was low and protective. “Don’t threaten me or Steve. You do not rule over me. You do not get to dictate to me how I should live my life. I’ve done my best to not make you ashamed of me, and yet nothing I do makes you proud of me. All because I like dick. Don’t you dare touch Steve, or it will be you who will be making the biggest mistake of your life.”

“Don’t threaten your father.”

“Then don’t threaten your son and the people he cares about.”

Father and son stared at each other in the foyer in their silent standoff until Melanie walked through the front door with a handful of papers. She halted at the sight of the two men and the aggressive stances they took with each other.

“What’s going on?”

Both men said nothing. 

“Okay, if you’re not going to tell me, maybe you two should go somewhere more private to argue.”

“No, it’s fine, Mel,” Bucky assured, breaking first from his standoff with his father.

Melanie eyed both of them with skepticism.

“It’s fine, Melanie,” George spoke, trying to lose some of the tension in his voice. “I should head home. I haven’t seen Winnie yet. I’d like to at least say ‘hi’ to her before I attend an event I have this evening. I’ll call you tomorrow. We need to sit down with the campaign committee to discuss next week’s appearances.”

“Yes, I know,” she replied. “Next week is a full schedule, and I need to discuss logistics with you.”

“Good.” He patted her arm and kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He walked out without acknowledging Bucky who was past expecting anything from his father.

Bucky walked over to the bar to pour himself a scotch. Melanie frowned.

“Don’t you think it’s a little early to be drinking? It’s two in the afternoon.”

“It’s happy hour out in the east coast,” he replied, raising a glass to her with a flourish.

“Not funny, James. What were you and your father arguing about?”

“We were discussing his idea of me going away during your run for office. Keeping a low to zero profile.”

Melanie regarded him with bafflement. “Why would he suggest that?”

“To keep me from becoming a liability to you.”

“Not trying to sound stupid, but why would you be a liability to me now?”

“Because someone might figure out that we live separate lives. He doesn’t want me embarrassing you. You know I would never intentionally do that to you while we’re in this…” Bucky broke off gesturing with his hands between the two of them.

“James, we agreed never to ask each other about what we do when we don’t have to make appearances together. But I have to ask if there is something that you’re doing that makes your father think you would be a liability. If there is, I need some warning.”

Bucky sipped his scotch and braced himself. “I’m seeing someone.”

Melanie stiffened, surprised yet not surprised by the admission. “Oh.”

“I’ve been careful.”

“Am I to assume that your father knows?”

Bucky’s jaw tightened. “Yeah, he does. But he found out through questionable means.”

“I see.” She held back for a second, making sure the next thing to leave her mouth didn’t sound hostile. “Is this person the reason you want a divorce?”

“No. I’ve been thinking about it long before I met him,” Bucky said with honesty. “I would have asked, eventually. And to be honest, I would have asked sooner, but when you told me you were going to run for congress, I knew I had to save it for later.”

Melanie wanted to retreat, to get away from Bucky and the conversation that was making her nauseated, but her feet refused to move.

“If you want me to disappear for a while, I will,” he offered. “I’d be more than happy to get out of your hair. It would be a good vacation for both of us.”

“I don’t care what you do for the rest of the campaign, James,” she responded, suddenly feeling too tired to tell him how much she didn’t want the conversation to continue. “Just… don’t get caught.” 

She turned on her heels to walk down the hall and into her home office.

• • • • •

Dressed in his navy blue bespoke suit, Steve weaved his way through the crowd of well-dressed cocktail party guests and serving staff walking around with hors d'oeuvres and trays carrying glasses of white wine. He smiled easily at anyone who looked in his direction as he made his way to meet someone who had requested his presence. 

He spotted that person seated comfortably at a table near one of the statues decorating the outdoor courtyard. Making his way to the table, the person seated noticed Steve. He stood up to greet him.

“Steve Rogers, I presume.” The man didn’t offer to shake hands with Steve.

“Senator Barnes,” Steve acknowledged. “I see you got my message. Kind of you to have one of your people contact me to set up this meeting so quickly.”

“I like to be efficient in these matters. Sit down, please. Would you like a glass of wine?” George waved over a server who had two remaining two glasses of wine on his tray.

“Oh, no, sir. I don’t require a drink this evening,” Steve replied as he sat down.

“Suit yourself.” George waved off the server. “Let’s dispense with the pleasantries and get right down to business.”

“Yes, let’s. You asked Bradley to follow me this morning. He’s not very good at following people, by the way. I think you need to sign him up for Stalking 101.”

“You think you’re funny,” George gruffed.

“And you think having someone stalking Bucky and me for a well-respected U.S. senator is a good way to curry favor with said senator.”

“You’ve got a good head on your shoulders. Too bad you use your mouth to be a high-priced whore.”

“Sir, if you asked me to come here so you could personally insult me, I’ll just leave. If not, stop with the insults and tell me what it is you want from me.”

“I want you to stop seeing my son,” George demanded.

“You mean you want me to stop seeing Bucky because you think I have the ability to ruin his wife’s political aspirations,” Steve corrected. “Oh, wait. Let me amend that. You want me to stop seeing Bucky because you don’t want him to embarrass the Barnes family.” Steve was winding up the verbal jousting, readying for a war of words with Bucky’s father.

“Melanie is part of the family so yes, I don’t want any scandal to sully the good name of Barnes,” George reasoned.

Steve was far from impressed. “Are you really that much more concerned about protecting the family image than the happiness of your own son?”

“I am concerned that he isn’t making good decisions regarding his personal life. He has been adrift before. Not knowing who he is and his place in this world. I think your presence is setting him adrift again. He is a married man. You should respect that fact.”

Steve mulled over George’s remarks. “I’m in a business where I cater to people who are married and willingly choose to disrespect their marriage vows. The statuses of those marriages are not my concern.”

Steve leaned forward. “If you’re that concerned, then maybe you shouldn’t have coerced him into marrying Melanie and accept him for who he really is.”

“Which is?”

“Unequivocally. Unconditionally. Your son.”

George sat, stunned by Steve’s audacity to call him out. 

“You do not get to tell me how I should treat my son.”

“Somebody needs to.” Steve couldn’t repress his instinct to keep goading.

“I beg to differ with you. You need to walk away from James. Name your price.”

Steve blinked. “Seriously. You’re going to pay me to stay out of Bucky’s life?”

“Why not? Given the business you’re in, one would think you’d jump at the chance at an offer like this. Name your price, I will pay it, and in turn, you kick James out of your life.”

Despite the fact, they were at a cocktail party, silence descended over the men. Steve considered what to say next. 

“$100,000.”

“To get rid of you?”

“Absolutely,” Steve smiled.

George was feeling smug. “Call it off with him, and I will wire the money into your account a few days later. I can provide you with a small deposit as an incentive.”

Steve leaned back on the chair. “That won’t be necessary.”

George smiled. “Good. I will wire you the entire amount after.”

“No, I mean that won’t be necessary because I’m not interested.”

George furrowed his brows. “What the hell do you mean you’re not interested?”

“I was curious. I wanted to know how much you were willing to pay me to go away. So, I threw out a number. I didn’t think you were serious.”

George remained soundless, his eyes brimming with indignation.

“I don’t want your money,” Steve stated, his voice low, even and clear. “I don’t care who his family is. I don’t care about who you are. But I do care that he is stuck in a marriage you had no business orchestrating. Bucky wants to be with me, and I’m not going anywhere. Not without Bucky.”

Steve watched George tense up, nostrils gradually flaring and skin starting to pinken. He watched him slowly lose his composure. 

“Be careful, Senator Barnes,” he smiled. “We’re at a social function. I wouldn’t want you to lose your temper in front of everybody.” Steve paused. “I’ll tell you what. I’m going to leave so your blood pressure doesn’t go through the roof. Thank you for the meeting, Senator Barnes. I’ll just show myself out. Good evening, sir.”

Steve stood up, giving Bucky’s father a polite nod, turned and walked away, melting into the crowd of well-dressed bodies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be posted on Thursday.


	7. A wanted man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a tense meeting with Pierce, Steve tears through his condo searching for evidence that could lead to discovering who is involved in trying to set him up for Beth Chamberlain's murder. What he discovers, leaves him reeling and concerned, not only for himself, but for Bucky, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone following this story. We appreciate your enthusiasm and investment in it. It really warms our hearts.

Electronic music thumped loudly, vibrating the nightclub’s walls and floors. The deejay bopped his head in beat with the music as he took another sip of bitters and club soda. The scent of sweat-covered male bodies on the dance floor permeated the place. 

Steve threaded his way through the throng of club-goers. Some recognized Steve, waving and shouting their ‘hello’s above the music at him.

An auburn-haired man who accidentally bumped shoulders with him turned to apologize for almost spilling his beer on Steve. Instead, he looked at him with surprise and smiled. 

“Hey, Steve, what brings you here? It’s been a while.” 

“Hey, Adam,” Steve replied. “Yeah, it has been. Do you know where Pierce is?”

“Yeah, he’s in the back. He has a new guy he’s been breaking in and introducing for the last three or four weeks.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” Adam answered, having consumed quite a bit of alcohol and maybe a smidgen of Ecstacy. “His name is Brock. He’s a looker.”

Steve smiled tightly, wanting to extricate himself from the conversation. “I bet he is. Look, Pierce wants to talk to me for some reason so I really shouldn’t keep him waiting.”

“Sure, no problem, man. It’s good seeing you again.”

“Same here.”

Walking down a short hallway, Steve wasn’t sure what he would be walking into. He had been surprised by the phone call. Steve stopped in front of the bouncer guarding Pierce’s office door.

“Hey, Seamus. Could you let me in? I got a message from Pierce saying he wanted to see me.”

Seamus smirked at him. “He’s expecting you. Go on in.”

Walking in, Steve was bumped hard in the shoulder by a lean, but muscular dark-haired man who was making his way out of Pierce’s office. 

“Watch it!” Steve snapped.

The dark-haired man stopped in his tracks, raising his hands in surrender. “Sorry about that, dude,” he smiled. “No harm done.”

Steve narrowed his eyes at him. The man’s smile looked more like a smug than anything apologetic. He turned around, ignoring the man who chuckled and continued to walk out the door.

“Is that Brock? He should watch where he’s going,” Steve groused.

“Steven, good to see you,” Pierce said smoothly, ignoring the small exchange between the two men, pouring some cognac into a snifter. “Yes, that was Brock. Thank you for coming to meet me. Please, have a seat. Great looking suit you’re wearing. Did I pull you out of some event? I didn’t mean to. You could have come by tomorrow for what I wanted to discuss with you.”

“No, it’s fine. I wasn’t planning to stay there for the evening anyway. I’m only here because you asked me and you were pretty cryptic over the phone.”

“If I had told you what I wanted to discuss over the phone, you would have what?”

“Probably hung up on you. I’m only here to be polite.”

“Well, thank you for being polite, Steven.” Pierce sat behind his desk and sipped his cognac. “The police dropped by to talk to me to discuss the Chamberlains and you. Detective Wilson is a no-nonsense kind of person. The man has no sense of humour.”

“Were you trying to make small talk with him?”

“No, he was aggressive. Hostile even.”

“Well, he is investigating the woman’s death.”

“Yes, he is.” Pierce took another sip from the snifter. “The reason I asked you here is because I have a proposal.”

“And what would that be?”

“Several little birds have told me that the LAPD is looking at you as a suspect in the killing.”

“You needed more than one little bird to verify that?”

“No, of course not. I also know that you haven’t provided an alibi for the night Thomas’ wife died.”

“How do you even know that?”

“Same flock of birds. Considering your situation, I would like to help you get out from under their thumb.”

“I’m not under their thumb, and what makes you so certain that I’m innocent?”

“You have far too many scruples, Steven. Killing isn’t in your blood.”

“And how would you help me get scratched off the LAPD’s list of suspects?”

“I can easily supply you with an alibi.”

“But there’s a catch, isn’t there?”

“You would have to leave Natasha and come work exclusively for me.”

Steve scrutinized the man who was casually sipping his drink. “Why would I want to leave Natasha?”

“Word is getting around that you’re a suspect. It’s something Natasha won’t be able to explain away to her clients. The moneyed elite are going to shy away from you. No one will touch you while you’re under investigation. Eventually, Natasha will have no choice but to drop you because you’ll be a liability to her bottom line and you’ll be on your own.”

Steve considered Pierce’s words for less than a second. “If I were younger, I would have considered your concern touching. Almost fatherly in some strange perverted way.”

“And now?” Pierce asked with a predatory smirk.

“Now, I don’t need your concern. I don’t give a shit what the moneyed elite think of me. And I certainly don’t need your help. Thanks, but no thanks.”

Steve rose from the chair and walked towards the door.

“You’re making a mistake by not accepting my help, Steven. Your life as it exists, is going to end. You need help avoiding the murder charges the police are going to slap you with.”

“I’ll take my chances,” Steve replied, not bothering to look back at Pierce as he opened the door and walked out.

• • • • •

Parking his car back at the underground garage, Steve remained in the driver’s seat, hands still gripped on the steering wheel. There was so much to process from everything that had happened in the past week. 

His phone buzzed in his pants pocket, but he was disinclined to fish it out to answer it. His mind wandered to thoughts of Bucky. 

It had only been a couple of days since he last saw or spoke with him. There had been simple text messages consisting of ‘hello’ and notes of ’I miss you’ and ‘Thinking of you.’ Nothing in-depth was discussed. They were saving those discussions for when they were in each other’s presence. 

He missed touching Bucky’s skin, the feel of their bodies pressed together, and the simple pleasure of being in each other’s company. It was a comfort Steve hadn’t realized he needed until Bucky came into his life.

Deciding he had sat in the car long enough, Steve climbed out and noticed a sinewy, dark-haired man leaning against a car in the designated visitors’ parking section. Brock. He was staring at him. Steve stared back. A few seconds later, Brock smiled, climbed into the car he had been leaning against and drove away.

Entering his condo, Steve couldn’t shake the feeling something wasn’t right. Seeing Brock had put him on edge. Standing in the middle of the living room with nothing but the glow of street lights illuminating the dark, restless energy thrummed through Steve. Wary eyes scanned the surroundings as he removed his suit jacket and tie. 

Systematically, Steve moved from room to room, searching for places where Beth Chamberlain’s jewelry could be tucked away without him noticing. Removing the grid covers, he used a flashlight to search the air vents. Cushions laid on the floor. Shelves with books and knick-knacks were emptied to be thorough in his search. Kitchen cupboard doors and drawers were left wide open. He went as far as to look in the fridge and freezer. 

Satisfied, he that had searched all possible places, he moved to the bathroom and into his bedroom. More items were upended. The mattress he flipped, leaned against a wall and clothes were strewn across the floor. When he finally stopped his search, he realized his place resembled the aftermath of a tornado. He was past groaning at the inevitability of cleaning up the mess he created. He was more relieved that his efforts turned up nothing. 

After putting the mattress back on top of the box spring, Steve changed into a pair of jeans and a clean dark green shirt and left the condo. He needed space to think, and he couldn’t do that while he was staring at his chaotic surroundings.

• • • • •

Curling his fingers under the car door handle, Steve felt an oily substance. He rubbed the substance between his fingers and thumb, giving it a whiff. It smelled of engine oil. 

Instead of getting into his car and pulling out of the parking garage, he started searching again. He began by checking under the hood, searching around the engine with the slim flashlight he had in the glove compartment. He moved onto the trunk, taking out the trunk floor and checking the spare tire. Running his hands along the wheel wells revealed nothing. He searched the car’s interior. Before he would consider removing the inside car panels, he checked the undercarriage. 

On his back, he wiggled his way underneath the car with a flashlight in hand. There were no signs of an oil leak. Sticking his hand into crevices, his fingers bumped into something wrapped in something plastic. Pulling the item out, the flashlight revealed a ziplock bag filled with jewelry. He had to assume they belonged to Beth.

Moving as quickly and as efficiently as he could, Steve tidied up the car and pocketed the jewels. Walking back up to his condo, he stuffed extra clothes into a backpack, grabbed a ball cap, and walked straight to the Mexican bar to catch a cab to his next destination.

The cab dropped him off two blocks away from his true destination. He finally decided to check his phone for missed calls and messages. There was a message from Bucky telling him he would call him tomorrow. He scrolled through the missed calls until he saw Nat’s missed call. 

Actually, there were six missed calls from her. Steve chose not to listen to her messages, knowing nothing good ever came from missing that many phone calls from one person. He walked the distance to the car rental business and drove away in a blue Kia Forte.

• • • • •

Walking into the Santa Monica late-night diner, it was easy to spot Nat’s flaming red hair. Steve strode casually towards her booth. She was noshing on a burger, onion rings and a tumbler of iced tea. She looked up as he slid into the seat opposite her. 

“I’m sorry I missed your calls, Nat.”

“Did you bother to listen to my messages.”

“No. I figured it would be more fun to have you yell at me in person.”

“Señora Alvarado.”

It took a second for the name to register in his brain. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he groaned. “It was today, wasn’t it?”

“You bet your sorry ass it was today. Imagine me getting a phone call from her after she retrieved her luggage and waited for you to show up for an hour.”

“Nat, I’m so sorry.”

“I had to do damage control, Steve. Luckily, Diego was available and was able to placate her and be a very competent host and personal guide. Diego says she’s in a much better mood tonight.”

“I can explain. The police have decided I’m a suspect in Chamberlain’s death. I’ve been tied up in this mess. There’s just a lot of shit going on around me, and I lost track.”

Nat sipped her iced tea, pondering what to say next. 

“You’re not one to forget something this important,” Nat conceded. “But this is clouding the business side of things for me. That means I can’t have you on the roster. Not right now. I’m not kicking you to the curb. I’m just putting your services on hold.”

“Thank you. That’s more than I was expecting. But I’d be fine if you had told me I wasn’t one of your best boys anymore. Cut me loose.”

“Do you want me to cut you loose? Fend for yourself?”

“You just might have to if I’m arrested for her death.”

“I haven’t been able to secure an alibi for you. Don’t think I’ll be able to, which hurts my feelings. I’m quite good with these things, but it seems you’re too hot to handle. And I don’t mean that in a positive way, Steve.”

“No offence taken.”

“I think you should accept help from the person you were with that night. You’re making it harder than it should be.”

“It’s still not an option. I appreciate your help anyway. I should leave, but I have a favor to ask of you.”

“And what would that be?”

“If anybody asks about me, tell them you haven’t seen me. I’ll contact you when I can.”

“Sure, I can do that. Take care of yourself.”

• • • • •

Too wired to drive back to his place, Steve found himself aimlessly driving around Los Angeles. The events from the last couple of months, which started with meeting Bucky played on a loop in his mind. The nighttime was the welcoming cover that allowed thoughts and feelings to manifest in good and bad ways since daylight had a way of hiding the things that didn’t want to be seen or remembered.

He thought about Pierce, Brock, and the Chamberlains. He thought about the possibility of having a life with Bucky. It was something he had never thought about before. But then, he had never met someone like Bucky before. He needed a way out. The solution had to be within his grasp. He needed to talk to Sam again. 

Red and blue light flashed the car interior. Steve glanced at the rearview mirror to find a police car behind him. Feeling unsure and a little paranoid, Steve slowly pulled the jewels out of the console and tucked them under his seat. The police car trailed behind him for another five blocks before it moved into the next lane and drove past him. 

• • • • •

The sound of a garbage truck rolling by startled Steve from an uncomfortable sleep in the car. His neck ached from the position he slept in. Yawning, he checked his phone for messages or missed calls. 

For once, it was quiet. 

For once, he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

He noticed the time displayed on the phone. 8:27am. Grabbing his backpack and ballcap, Steve exited the car to head over to the coffee shop located two blocks away. After picking up a coffee and a breakfast sandwich, he settled down at one of the tables at the front of the shop where he had a good view of the entrance to the high-rise apartment across the street. He bided his time, drinking his coffee and pretending to be checking his phone for messages or checking something out on the internet.

Approximately forty-five minutes after he sat down to covertly watch who entered and exited the building, the person he had been waiting for appeared.

  
  


Exiting the high-rise, Pierce smiled and exchanged pleasantries with the doorman. Afterwards, he stood under an overhang near the high-rise’s front door and waited for someone. Five minutes later, a car pulled up. The driver exited the car to walk around and open the rear passenger door for Pierce to enter. He smiled at the person sitting in the backseat before climbing in. The driver got back into the car, preparing to drive away. The person sitting behind the driver leaned forward to give him instructions. 

At that moment, Steve’s eyes widened, recognizing the person speaking to the driver. His mouth gaped open, not expecting this person to be an ally for Pierce. The person looked out the car window at the on-coming traffic before the car drove away. 

Melanie Wilton-Barnes.

• • • • •

Driving up to Steve’s condo, Bucky noticed two police cars. Then he spotted what he believed to be an unmarked car. He saw Wanda speaking calmly with the officer posted at the entrance. But it was clear she was agitated by their presence. 

Bucky caught Wanda’s eye as she turned away from the officer. She stopped, signaling that she needed to talk to him. Responding with a single nod, he parked his car a block away. Getting out of the car, he noticed Wanda walking calmly towards him. He met her halfway.

“What’s going on?”

“They’re back at his place,” she replied. “They’re waiting for him. They wouldn’t say any more than that.”

Bucky’s gut tightened at her words. He wanted to go up to the officers stationed at Steve’s place and tell them they’re looking at the wrong guy. He wanted to tell them that Steve had an alibi because he was with him the night Elizabeth Chamberlain died. He wanted so many things. But he agreed to let Steve handle this and as far as he was concerned, this was escalating in a way Steve might not be able to get out from under. His priority was to find Steve.

“What time did they get here?”

“Around 9:30 this morning.”

“Do you know where he is if they’re waiting for him to come back?”

She shook her head. “I called him after they arrived. He’s staying away. I don’t know where he is. I never saw him yesterday. His car is still here, and they’re searching it right now.”

“Alright. I’ll go find him. Keep us posted. If they leave, they’ll probably leave one of the officers behind to wait for him so we won’t be back.”

Wanda nodded. “I’ll be in touch later.” She turned, walking back to the building.

Returning to his car, Bucky called Steve, hoping he would answer.

“Hey, Buck,” Steve answered cheerfully.

“Where the fuck are you?”

“I’m fine.”

“That doesn’t tell me where you are right now.”

“In a rental car, driving around.”

“Stop being vague. We need to meet up and discuss the fact the police are back at your place, waiting for you.”

“I know, Buck. I’m sorry. I’m not trying to be intentionally vague. I’m just trying to formulate a plan. There’s a diner along the highway near Solstice Canyon, it’s called Howlies. It’ll be on your left, you can’t miss it. Meet me there in about an hour and a half?”

Bucky blew out a breath. “Yeah, okay. I’ll meet you there... Just don’t let the cops catch you.”

“I’ll do my best.”

After ending the call with Bucky, Steve pulled over on a quiet residential street to make another call. The phone rang three times before the person answered.

“Where are you, Rogers?”

“What kind of greeting is that, Sam?” Steve teased.

“The kind that says I’m trying to keep you from getting arrested but whoever is setting you up is doing their damnedest to see you wear orange,” he huffed.

“I’m nowhere near my place right now if that’s what you’re asking. I’m on the move.”

“You know how to end this. Come in and give us your alibi.”

“I have a better idea.”

“And that would be?”

“Meet me at Howlies.”

“Now? I have a murder investigation to oversee which you are a crucial part of. I’m supposed to up and leave to see you?”

“It’s related to the investigation. It’s related to me.”

There a second of silence; “Since you put it that way. When did you want to meet?”

“Ninety minutes? It’s gonna take me that long to get down there.”

“Yeah, I’ll try to get away. See you soon.”

• • • • •

The first to arrive at Howlies, Bucky secured a booth, ordered a coffee, and looked out the window, waiting for Steve to arrive. A few minutes later, he spotted the man exiting his rental and making his way to the diner. Bucky’s heart sped up a little at seeing him, relieved to know that Steve was still walking around a free man. He was eager to hear his voice and touch him. He watched Steve scan the lunchtime crowd. Their eyes met, and Steve smiled. Bucky slid out of the booth to give him a hug.

“God, Stevie,” Bucky murmured into his shoulder. “How are we gonna get you out of this mess? You know you’re a fucking idiot for not telling the police about me.”

“I know. But I have an idea, Buck. There’s gonna be someone else joining us any minute.”

Buck stepped back, looking puzzled at Steve. “Who’s joining us?”

“That would be me,” Sam replied as he walked up to the two men. “By the way, Rogers, that stubble you’re sporting looks a little rough.” He looked at Bucky, then he looked at Steve. “Now I see why you wouldn’t give me an alibi.” Sam extended his hand out at Bucky, who automatically shook it without thinking. “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Barnes.”

“Likewise,” Bucky said, still confused by the detective’s presence and wondering why Steve asked him to be present. “Please call me Bucky. I haven’t gone by my given name since I was in fourth grade.

“Okay, Bucky. I’m Detective Sam Wilson. I’m overseeing the investigation of Elizabeth Chamberlain’s murder.”

“I’ve known Sam since we were thirteen back in Brooklyn,” Steve offered. “He’s actually my best friend. Maybe we should sit down.”

Bucky blinked at both men as he sat down. “Isn’t this a conflict of interest for you? The fact that you know each other?” he asked Sam.

“Yeah, it is, but I’m choosing to overlook that because Steve is my oldest and closest friend. I never believed he could be a suspect. He’s being set up. I can’t find anything strong enough to support that yet.”

“So, why are the police at Steve’s place, waiting for him to go back there? Did someone say they would find something there?” Bucky inquired.

“They won’t find anything,” Steve interrupted. “They won’t find the missing jewels.”

Sam gave him a questioning look. “Do you want to explain that statement, Rogers?”

“I found them tucked in the undercarriage of my car after I spotted one of Pierce’s boys in the underground parking at my place. He was looking pretty smug at me. I think the guy’s name is Brock. No last name.”

“And you didn’t bother to contact me? What is wrong with you?” Sam demanded calmly.

“I only found them last night. And I’m telling you now. Don’t worry, I have them hidden away.”

“I have to ask you again,” Sam said solemnly. “Aside from Chamberlain and Pierce, do you have any idea who would go to this much trouble to frame you?”

Bucky couldn’t help but think of someone in particular. Someone he feared who could actually be capable of wanting Steve out of the way.

“You might want to look into my father,” he blurted out. A sense of indignance for Steve and a feeling that he was betraying his father warred inside him.

Steve saw the conflict on Bucky’s face. He couldn’t imagine how hard it was to focus the lens at his father.

Sam wasn’t a person who surprised easily, after seeing some of the things he saw during his time in both the NYPD and the LAPD. But hearing Bucky suggest his father, who was currently a U.S. senator, as a potential suspect was something he hadn’t ever anticipated.

“What makes you say that?” Sam asked.

“He knows about Steve,” Bucky replied. “He had people following me, which was the only way he found out. I don’t even know if he always had someone following me. Honestly, I never paid enough attention. We had several fights over Steve. He wanted me to stop seeing him. Said he was concerned about my potential to ruin the family’s political clout and legacy. He was worried about it derailing Melanie’s run for congress. I told him I wasn’t prepared to walk away from Steve. We really don’t have the best father-son relationship.”

“Your father had someone follow me, too, Buck,” Steve added. He watched Bucky’s eyes widen. “You weren’t the only one.”

“Wow, this is getting better by the minute,” Sam groaned.

“Yeah, well I caught the guy stalking me and told him to send a message to Senator Barnes that if he wanted to speak to all he had to do was ask.” Keeping his eyes locked on Bucky, Steve continued. “So, we had a conversation. He was willing to pay me $100,000 to walk away from Bucky. I told him there was no way in hell I was leaving him.”

Bucky looked down at his coffee cup, trying to hide the emotions welling up inside him. His heart was sinking, thinking that his father could be responsible for Steve’s situation.

“Okay, let’s run with this for now,” Sam chimed in. “Bucky, does the name Alexander Pierce ring a bell with you?”

“Yes. My father mentioned his name during the last argument we had. He learned about Steve’s occupation from him. My father doesn’t like him, so I asked him why he would even discuss Steve with him. Personally, I’ve never met the man.”

“Okay, we’ll need to see if there are any other connections between your father and Pierce beyond running in the same circles,” Sam said. “But I do have a question for you.”

“Sure. What is it?”

“I hate to state the obvious, but you’re married. Your father knows about Steve. Does your wife know about Steve? How does she fit into this picture? The optics don’t look that great.”

“She knows about Steve. I told her a couple of days ago,” Bucky replied. “Our marriage is only on paper. It’s a sham. It was always a sham. Cooked up by my father.”

Sam blinked and shook his head. “You’ve lost me.”

“He never wanted a gay son,” Bucky replied, his voice neutral in tone. “Melanie and I have never shared a bed. We have separate bedrooms.”

Sam’s eyes widened at this detail. “So, you never considered your wife as a viable suspect?”

“No. Why would I? We live separate lives when we were not in the public eye together.” 

Bucky was adamant about it, which made Steve’s stomach drop given the information he had yet to share. But Bucky caught Steve’s reaction. Concern washed over his face. “Steve, what’s wrong?”

“I think we need to look at someone else other than Senator Barnes.”

“Who are you suggesting?” Sam asked.

“Melanie,” he replied, his unwavering gaze matching Bucky’s. “You need to look at her.”

“Are you serious?” Bucky asked, his mind trying to process the idea that Melanie had any hand in setting up Steve. “Why would you say that?”

“I saw Pierce waiting for someone outside his apartment building. This car pulled up, the driver got out and opened the door for him to get into the backseat, and she was there waiting for him.”

“Why were you outside his apartment building?” Sam asked.

“I wanted to see if I could see him with someone who could be connected to the murder.”

Sam stared at Steve for a moment. “You’ve got one hell of a horseshoe up your ass. You went there without any plan, and yet you might have hit the jackpot.”

Steve smiled ruefully. “I really don’t think I have a horseshoe lodged anywhere in me. I just got lucky.”

“What did the driver look like?” Bucky asked.

“Dark hair. Had a small ponytail which is kinda strange because I thought drivers had to look a little more clean cut. He had a moustache. Stocky build. Looked Eastern European. Wore sunglasses. Had a wedding ring.”

Bucky closed his eyes, dropping his head into his hands. “That’s Alex, my father’s driver. We don’t have one, but my father made him available for Mel if she ever needed one during the campaign… Shit.”

Steve slid his hand across the table, fingertips touching Bucky’s left elbow. All three men were silent for a moment, absorbing the implications it could bring to everyone involved.

“Why would she do this?” Bucky thought out loud.

“I’m not trying to hit you over the head with it, but I think the answer is sitting across the table from you,” Sam replied.

Bucky glanced at Sam, then Steve. It never occurred to him that maybe Melanie had feelings that went beyond the friendship they had shared before the marriage. “I’m sorry, Steve. I never thought Mel could be capable of this.”

“Hey, don’t apologize,” Steve said, trying to calm Bucky. “We don’t know what her motivations are if she’s involved. She has to tell us. But first, we need to figure out our next move.”

“What we need to do is determine the connection between Pierce and your wife, if Steve is the common denominator and if so, figure out who else might be involved,” Sam stated. “I’m not ruling out Chamberlain. I know he’s involved somehow. Elizabeth Chamberlain died for a reason, and someone is trying to put this on Steve. We have two questions to answer.”

“What about my father? He could still be involved somehow.”

“Maybe, but so far he’s only guilty of trying to bribe Steve into walking away from you. Did he ever say explicitly he wanted to harm Steve?”

“No. My interpretation is he was implying he would.”

Sam tapped his fingers on the table. “Unless he’s caught trying or ordering someone to harm Steve, there’s not much we can do.”

A server dropped by their booth. “Are you ready to order?”

Sam spoke first. “I’ll have the Reuben and a coffee, please.”

The server looked expectantly at Bucky. “Uhm, it’s my first time here, so I’m not sure what’s good,” Bucky said with a shrug.

“I’ll order for him,” Steve piped up. “He’ll have the chicken pot pie with a side of the house salad. Balsamic vinaigrette. And I’ll have the grilled roast beef sandwich with sweet potato fries and a chocolate milkshake.”

Sam smirked at Steve as the server left with their orders.

“What?” Steve asked. 

“You really are sweet on the guy. Ordering food for him.”

“Yeah. Is there a problem?” Steve smiled back.

Sam raised his hands in surrender. “No problem here. It’s just good to see this side of you again.”

“Uhm, excuse me,” Bucky injected with a wry smile. “You do know that it’s kinda weird being referred to in the third person when I’m sitting here, right?”

“Sorry,” Sam answered. “I like teasing the man every once and awhile.”

Steve snorted. “It’s not every once and awhile. More like every fucking chance you can get.”

“Only when I’m not trying to save your sorry ass.”

“It was easier when we were teenagers.”

“Not true. Back then, I was also busy saving your scrawny ass from fights you had no business being in.”

Steve feigned innocence. “Who? Me? You must be thinking of somebody else.”

Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle at the banter. He enjoyed watching Steve get sassed by Sam. If anything, it was a brief but precious moment of forgetting what life might have in store for himself and Steve once they stepped beyond the diner’s doors.

“I gotta question for you, man.”

“And what question would that be, Sam?”

“I didn’t see your car in the lot. I know it’s still in the underground garage, so what are you driving now?”

“That blue number over there,” Steve replied, pointing to the car.

“Of course, you would stick with blue.”

“Brings out the blue in my eyes.”

Bucky snorted. “You know, under better circumstances, I would love to see what happens when you both have had a little too much to drink.”

“Don’t need booze to sass Steve,” Sam quipped.

“No, he doesn’t,” Steve agreed. “We would be pranking each other and doing stupid shit until the sun came up the next morning.”

“Yeah, you can ask Riley about that,” Sam told Bucky. “Gave me nothing but grief the last time we were roughhousing in the apartment. Nearly put a hole in the living room wall. He was so pissed.”

“Hey, remember the time you surprised him by bringing his sister and her husband in from Chicago so they could tell him face-to-face that he was going to be an uncle?”

Sam smiled. “I never saw him cry that much in my life.” 

Slowly, his expression morphed into one of that something was formulating in his mind. The server arrived with a tray carrying their food. After she left, Sam still wore that expression.

“Sam, what’s going on?” Steve asked, shaking salt onto his sweet potato fries.

“Okay, listen up. I got an idea about how to clear Steve and catch the ones who are responsible for Elizabeth Chamberlain’s murder. We’re going to need her jewels and the two of you to pull this off.”

• • • • •

“Do you think Sam’s plan is gonna work?” Bucky asked, lying on the motel bed, still fully clothed. An empty styrofoam container that once carried a burrito and tater tots sat on his stomach.

“It has to. If it doesn’t, I don’t know what else to do,” Steve replied, washing his hands in the bathroom. “But I believe Sam’s idea is a solid one. He’s a great tactician. He was that way long before he went into law enforcement. He just needs a couple of days to get everything lined up and then we do our part.”

Bucky placed the empty container on the nightstand and sat up. “If it doesn’t work. I’m going to tell them you were with me because that’s the truth, Steve. I don’t care if it throws Melanie’s campaign into a tailspin. I can’t let it go on if this doesn’t work.”

Steve walked over and sat down next to Bucky. “Trust Sam. Trust that this is going to work the way he said it would. Trust me, okay?” He pulled Bucky into an embrace.

Bucky huffed. “So, for now, we lay low?”

“I lay low. You’re not the one under the microscope. You go home and sleep in your own bed.”

“Nope, not gonna happen. I can’t look at Mel and pretend I know nothing about her meeting with Pierce this morning. I’m gonna lose it with her, and I’m gonna ruin everything Sam’s trying to set up. I can’t go back.” He hugged Steve tighter.

“She’s going to wonder where you are. You can’t disappear for two or three days in a row. She’s going to say something to someone.”

“Fine,” Bucky said, feeling petulant and tense. “I’ll go back tomorrow, pack a small gym bag with clothes and come back here.”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

“She knows about you. She’s going to assume I’m with you. The fact I haven’t gone home to pack up everything I own and move out should be some sort of comfort to her.”

Steve sighed at his petulance. He kissed Bucky to pull him out of the dark cloud he walked into. Bucky kissed back with intense fervor. A minute later, they parted to catch their breath.

Bucky looked into Steve’s eyes. “After all of this is over, and you’re cleared, what do you plan on doing?” he asked.

“I haven’t given it much thought, but I know I’m done here. This town is done with me, and I’m done with this place. I’m probably gonna go back to Brooklyn and pursue the artist’s life. And you?”

“After I divorce Mel, I don’t know. I’m feeling a little lost. I can’t stay here either. Sometimes, I think I’m suffocating.”

“We could be lost together,” Steve said quietly. “Come with me to Brooklyn. Start over. I’m sure there are hospitals who would love to have you on staff.”

“Seriously? You want me to move to Brooklyn with you?”

Steve kissed him. “Seriously. I love you, Buck. I’m in love with you. I want you in my life. I’m hoping you feel the same way.”

He blinked at Steve, surprised by the pronouncement. Then he kissed him back. “I’m in love with you, too. And yeah, I want to share a life with you. I’ve never met anyone like you before. I don’t think I want a life where you weren’t a part of it.”

Feeling his chest swell with love and adoration, Steve dove in to kiss him again. Bucky whimpered, melting into him. Even through the linen shirt, his body felt hot under Steve’s hands. The motel room was on the low end of a five-star rating, but it was fine for the two men. At least, the wifi was free. They didn’t want to be seen nor did they need fancy amenities. They just needed each other’s company.

But the room’s air conditioning unit was working extra hard during the infancy of a heatwave that was forecast to envelop the region for at least a couple of weeks. Despite the fact, the sun had started its descent into the horizon, the heat permeating the room’s exterior wall didn’t dissipate.

Steve broke away from Bucky’s lips and locked onto his grey eyes. After a moment, he started methodically unbuttoning Bucky’s shirt from the top down. 

Sensing that Steve wanted to undress him without any assistance, Bucky quietly stood before him, watching his lover’s face and relishing the feel of his hands brushing over his body during the process of being undressed. Inhaling slowly and deeply, he filled his lungs with Steve’s scent, feeling the heat emanating from his body. He wanted so much to put his mouth on Steve, but he didn’t want to break the spell Steve’s presence cast over him.

Steve smoothed his hands up Bucky’s torso, grazing over the chest hair, pushing Bucky’s shirt off his shoulders until the shirt pooled on the floor behind him. Cupping Bucky’s jaw, his thumb caressed his lips. Bucky’s lips parted at the touch, his tongue licked the tip of the thumb. 

Within a second, the thumb slipped into the wet heat of Bucky’s mouth. Steve watched Bucky suckle and moan around it, hungry for more. He pushed his thumb deeper into his mouth. The sounds Bucky made, had Steve’s cock twitching and straining against his jeans. Sliding his thumb out of Bucky’s mouth, Steve pulled him in for another searing kiss, grinding his hips against him before pushing him onto the bed. 

Bucky’s head landed on the pillows propped up against the headboard, lips parted, pupils black with desire. Locking eyes with Bucky, he palmed himself through his pants, wanting so much to undo his fly, pull out his cock, jerk off and come all over Bucky. It was a primal and proprietary urge that coiled deep inside him. But he wasn’t going to go that route right now even though Bucky’s expression suggested he wanted the same thing. He would save it for another time.

Crawling over Bucky’s supine body, Steve dipped his head to give him another kiss. “I love you, Buck.”

“God, I love you, too. But you’re making me wait,” Bucky replied, his body wriggling and restless in anticipation.

Bucky’s grey denim jeans couldn’t hide how hard his cock was becoming. Steve ran his hand ran over its length, feeling it twitch under his touch. Bucky groaned, pushing his hips against Steve’s hand.

“Shhh, let’s get you naked first,” Steve cooed as he started divesting the man of the rest of his clothes. 

Once Bucky was naked, Steve began undressing. Bucky licked his lips and stroked his cock as he watched Steve strip each piece of clothing off his body. His eyes landed on Steve’s thick cock, the head glistening with pre-cum.

“Like something you see?” Steve smirked, giving himself a squeeze before his hand slid back and forth along the length of his shaft.

“Yeah, I do actually. But I have to ask you the same question. Do you like something you see? Because you got that look in your eye. Like you want something.” 

Spreading his legs apart, Bucky bent his knees, keeping his feet on the bed, exposing himself to Steve’s hungry gaze.

“Yeah, I do want something,” Steve answered.

Reaching into his backpack that was sitting at the foot of the bed, Steve pulled out a bottle of lube. He climbed onto the bed, situating himself between Bucky’s legs and placing the bottle a few inches to his left. He noticed Bucky following his every move. 

“The lube is for later,” he supplied. “I’d like you to stop touching yourself, please.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes at him but took his hand away. “What’s on your mind?”

“You’ll find out soon enough,” Steve teased, lightly running his fingers along his lover’s inner thighs. 

Bucky inhaled sharply and shuddered, not realizing how sensitive he was. Steve nuzzled his face along the inside of Bucky’s left thigh. The day-old stubble growth scratched the tender flesh, making Bucky hiss and moan.

Steve followed up with a lick and a kiss on the irritated skin. He sucked a bruise into the skin. Bucky sobbed as the sensation shot straight to his cock, making it twitch and stiffen even more.

“Is it too much?” Steve asked with a smirk.

“No, it’s not too much,” Bucky gasped. “More please.”

Steve gently rubbed his stubble against Bucky’s right inner thigh, leaving a matching bruise and drawing another grasp out of him. “Are you sure?”

Bucky squirmed as he tried to slow his breathing. “Yes, I’m fine.”

Steve chuckled. Soothing the pink and irritated skin with the backs of his hands, he and Bucky gazed into each other’s eyes, saying nothing. Steve wrapped his hand around Bucky’s cock, giving it firm, leisurely strokes, making him whine and writhe.

“Feeling sensitive, Buck?”

He nodded.

“You’re gonna be more than that when I’m done with you.”

Bucky swallowed thickly. “Please, I wanna feel you.”

Steve smiled with love in his eyes. “Anything for you.” 

Dropping down onto his elbows and making himself comfortable, Steve enveloped the entire length of Bucky’s cock with his mouth. He felt Bucky stiffen and shudder as he moaned. Breathing in Bucky’s scent, Steve didn’t move for several seconds. Hollowing his cheeks, Steve slowly dragged himself off Bucky’s cock before swallowing him whole again. He repeated this several more times until Bucky curled his fingers in Steve’s hair and whined.

“Please,” he begged.

“You want more?”

Tugging on Steve’s hair, he growled. “Give me more.” 

Steve gasped, discovering for the first time that having his hair tugged aroused him which resulted in spilling more pre-cum onto the bedsheets. With Bucky’s cock in his hand, he rubbed his stubbled cheek against it. Bucky cried out at the sensation, mindlessly shouting out profanities, his fingers tightening around the fistsful of hair still in his hands.

From the base to the tip, Steve ran his tongue along the underside of Bucky’s cock while cupping his balls with the other hand and giving them a light squeeze. This time, instead of the torturous, methodical approach he used when he started going down on Bucky, Steve opted to overwhelm him. 

His strokes started quick and rough. Then he would switch gears, slowing the speed and pace, adding his mouth into the mix. Alternating between the two rates pushed Bucky to a fever pitch. He babbled incoherently, much to Steve’s amusement. But Steve could tell Bucky was close. A thin sheen of sweat covered Bucky’s body, as well as Steve’s. Bucky had untangled his fingers from Steve’s hair,and they were now gripping and pulling at the bedsheets.

Steve intertwined his fingers with Bucky’s, squeezing them to get his attention. Bucky opened his eyes and looked at him.

“Close?” Steve asked.

Bucky nodded, closing his eyes as if the act of keeping them open was too much for him to handle. “I need to… I…”

Steve squeezed his hand again. “When you need to, just go ahead, sweetheart. I’ll catch you.”

Slipping the tip of Bucky’s cock into his mouth, his tongue flicked and teased the slit. He loved how Bucky tasted and how much pre-cum oozed out of him. He loved the feel of Bucky’s cock sliding in and out of his mouth. Hard, juicy, thick enough for a comfortable stretch regardless of whether it was in his mouth or up his ass. He couldn’t stop craving it.

Bucky’s heart raced. His skin crackled with electricity under Steve’s ministrations. His eyes fluttered open, watching Steve take him apart. Everything felt too much, too intense. He wanted to crawl out of his skin and catch his breath. But that would mean he would be denying himself everything being offered at the moment. Everything Steve was giving him. He couldn’t miss out. No, he was going to stick with too much and too intense. 

Squeezing Steve’s hand, his body coiled and tightened. Seconds later, Bucky’s vision whited out, and his body jerked. Shaking, he sobbed, filling Steve’s mouth with cum.

The sound of Bucky coming was music to Steve’s ears. He couldn’t help but grind his hips into the bed, trying to take the edge off his need to fuck Bucky senseless. 

With his lips and chin smeared in cum and spit Steve crawled up towards Bucky with a sly smile. Taking one look at the man, Bucky pulled him down until they were close enough to breathe the same air. Steve parted his lips, letting the cum drip into Bucky’s waiting mouth. Then he closed the short distance to kiss him. 

Bucky moaned, chasing after the taste of himself in Steve’s mouth. “God, that was so good,” he breathed, feeling hazy and pliant. He felt Steve’s erection pressed into his hip. “You didn’t come?”

“Not yet. Don’t worry, we’re not done yet.”

“How the hell are you gonna top what you just did to me?”

“I’ve got something in mind. We’ll shower and sleep after.”

After a few minutes of silence and cuddles, Steve nuzzled into Bucky’s neck with mixed results.

“Shit, you’re too prickly,” Bucky yelped, trying to push Steve away. “Stop it.”

“Not if I schmush my face into you and stay still,” Steve chuckled, pressing his face into the crook of his neck. Bucky wriggled underneath Steve’s weight until he decided it was a lost cause and gave up. Steve slowly rubbed his face in Bucky’s skin like a cat marking its territory, feeling Bucky’s fingers dig into his shoulders every time he grazed over a tender area.

Pushing himself up and off of Bucky. He caressed the hickeys with his thumbs. Gently, he pressed down on them. Bucky hissed but made no attempt to swat his hands away. 

Steve smiled. “Come on. I need you on your elbows and knees.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, giving him a questioning look.

“You know we’re not done yet,” Steve answered, stroking himself again. 

Bucky glanced at his cock, smacking his lips as he looked up at Steve. He sighed melodramatically. “If you say so.” Moving onto his elbows and knees, Bucky felt the sharp sting of a hand slapping his ass.

“Ow, what was that for?”

“That was for that sassy mouth of yours,” Steve replied, grabbing the bottle of lube and nudging Bucky’s legs further apart. Not wanting to wait for Bucky to shoot back his own retort, Steve spread his cheeks and planted his tongue over his hole.

“Jesus Christ,” Bucky breathed. “A little warning would be nice.”

“Nope. Where would the fun be in doing that?” Massaging Bucky’s cheeks, he licked and playfully prodded at the puckered muscle. It relaxed and opened up under Steve’s mouth. 

Bucky felt a spit-slick finger slide easily into his entrance. He groaned, pushing onto Steve’s finger, wanting and needing more. 

“You’re so good, baby,” Steve praised. He slipped in a second finger, continuing to slowly fuck Bucky’s ass. Quickly finding the prostate, his fingers brushed over the bundle of nerves surrounding it. Bucky keened into the pillow, feeling a little weak in the knees.

“More, please, Stevie,” he begged. “Give me more.”

“More?”

Bucky hummed in the affirmative. 

“Then you’ll get more. All I ask is that you take what I give you. And I know you can take a lot.”

“Please,” Bucky whimpered. “I need you.”

Feeling Steve’s fingers slip out of him. They were replaced by Steve’s tongue. He alternated between lapping at his fluttering hole and tongue fucking him. Bucky whined, trying not to push himself back onto Steve’s tongue. Acutely aware his cock was heavy and dripping, he ached for release. 

Without any preamble, Steve pressed his face in between Bucky’s cheeks, rubbing his face back and forth against his hole and perineum. The roughness and bite of Steve’s stubbled face had Bucky gasping and moaning wantonly. The burn had him curling his toes. Crying out Steve’s name, his legs trembled, barely managing to remain still. 

“It’s alright, sweetheart,” Steve soothed. “Won’t be much longer.” He slid his cock between his cheeks and draped himself over Bucky’s back to whisper in his ear.

“Is it alright if we do this without protection? I wanna feel you so much. But we have condoms. Your choice. I’ll do whatever you want, baby.”

Bucky didn’t need to think about it. “No condom. I need to feel you inside.” 

Steve acknowledged the decision with a kiss to the nape of his neck.

Moving back onto his knees, Steve flipped open the bottle cap, squeezing a decent amount of lube into the palm of his hand. After slathering it onto his cock and giving himself a few quick strokes, he lined himself up with Bucky’s hole and slid inside without much resistance. He moaned at the heat and feel of Bucky around him.

“Fuck, you feel so much better like this,” Steve groaned. He felt Bucky tighten around him as if he wanted to keep him there. “God, you’re greedy,” he chuckled.

He didn’t bother to start off slow and gentle. He went straight for hard and punishing. The sound of balls slapping against ass added to the cacophony of moans, curses and the white noise hum from the air conditioner.

“Steve,” Bucky gasped.

“Yeah?”

“I need more,” he panted. “I need to come.”

“Hang on, Buck. I’ll get you there.”

Slowing down temporarily to adjusting the angle of his thrusts, Steve resumed his punishing pace, pounding into Bucky as if it was the last thing he would ever do. A minute later, Bucky howled as he came over the bedsheets.

Gripping Bucky’s hips tightly enough to leave bruises, Steve continued fucking him through his orgasm. With Bucky pulsating strongly around his cock, Steve soon followed, crying out and collapsing on top of his lover. He kissed Bucky’s shoulder before rolling onto his back. Bucky mustered enough energy to place his head on Steve’s sweaty and heaving chest. They laid together quietly for several minutes, allowing their bodies to cool down.

Bucky pondered a life with Steve in those quiet moments. He smiled to himself.

“Moving to Brooklyn sounds pretty good,” Bucky confessed.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, it’s the opposite end of the country. It’ll give me time to breathe.”

“Atta boy,” Steve grinned.

Bucky raised his head to gaze into Steve’s eyes. “I have some contacts out there, and they would be able to help me with finding a hospital where I would be a good fit, once all this is over.” 

Steve kissed Bucky and smiled. “It’s gonna be great, Buck. Fresh start. I have so much to show you when we get there. Just you and me. Til the end of the line.”

“Yeah, that’s all I need.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Two more chapters to go! Second last chapter goes up Saturday.


	8. You’re gonna have to step over my dead body

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam's plan to reveal the people responsible for trying to frame Steve for murder is set into motion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter after this! Thanks for sticking it out with us. It has been a blast sharing this story with you. And we're not done yet...

  
  


Keeping his eyes on Steve and Sam, Bucky chewed on his lower lip, anxiously waiting for his call to be answered. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, Mel.”

She sighed out of exasperation. “James, where have you been?”

“I’ll give you one guess.”

“The least you could have done was leave a message, so I know that you’re not dead. Are you planning on coming back or should I start packing your things?” she asked tersely.

“Yes, I’m planning to return. But we need to talk first.”

“Go ahead. Talk.”

“No, I mean face-to-face. I wanna discuss me staying away until after the primaries are over.”

A second of silence passed. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, I am.”

“What about Steve?”

“That’s none of your concern. You know that.”

She paused again. “Come back home, and we’ll talk.”

“No. I was thinking about a late lunch tomorrow at Segovia’s. I’m buying. We can talk then.”

More silence. He knew she was hesitating.

“It’s your favorite restaurant, Mel,” Bucky cajoled. “Don’t tell me you don’t want to eat there anymore.”

“Okay, fine. What time?”

“One o’clock sound alright with you?”

“Yes, it’s fine. I’ll see you then.” She ended the call.

Bucky blew out a long breath, trying to calm the shiver crawling up his spine. He saved the recorded conversation, transferred the audio file to Sam’s phone, and closed the app. He looked at the two men. “Okay, I’ve done my part.”

Sam squeezed his shoulder. “You did good. We’ve got the ball rolling.”

Bucky nodded. He was feeling better about Sam’s plan after he provided more details to Steve and himself about the sting operation. 

“And now, it’s my turn,” Steve quipped as he punched in a number he still knew by memory into his phone. He hoped this would be the last time he would have to recall it.

His call was answered after the third ring.

“Steven, imagine my surprise seeing your number appear on the screen,” Pierce said smugly. “I hope there is a good reason for your call. After our last conversation, I had assumed you weren’t planning on speaking to me again.”

“Life is full of surprises, sir,” Steve remarked. “I’m calling because I’ve changed my mind.”

“Changed your mind about what exactly, Steven?”

By the tone of his voice, Steve knew Pierce was being cautious but wouldn’t hesitate to take the bait he was about to offer.

“Working for you. In exchange for helping me get the police off my back with regards to the Chamberlain murder.”

Pierce chuckled. “I’m glad to hear you’re finally coming around to my way of thinking. Is it my understanding that you’ve let go of some of your scruples?”

“I’ll admit I did a little bit of thinking after I stopped working for Natasha.”

“I heard something about that, but I wasn’t sure if that was true.”

“I’m surprised your little birds couldn’t convince you that was true. Are you still interested in having me back in your fold?”

“Always interested.”

“Then help me get the police off my back. I didn’t kill the woman. I want my life back.”

“I know you didn’t, Steven. We’ll get your life back.”

“Good. Why don’t we meet for lunch tomorrow and discuss this further?”

“Absolutely. Did you have a place in mind?”

“Segovia’s. Is 1:20 alright? That’s the only time I’m free for lunch. I’ll make the reservation for 1:30. It’ll be on my dime.”

“That’s very generous of you. You must be serious if you’re going to cover lunch.”

“I am. Very much so.”

“Then, I will see you tomorrow.”

• • • • •

Bucky fiddled with the shirt Sam gave him to wear for lunch with Melanie. His fingers were all thumbs. He grumbled at his inability to button a shirt. He looked up to see Sam attaching a tiny mic to Steve’s chest. 

They were in Sam and Riley’s apartment, which had become a beehive of activity. A small contingent from Sam’s team was putting together equipment and quickly reviewing how the sting would operate. Everyone else involved with the sting was already in place at the restaurant.

Leaning against the kitchen counter, Riley watched Bucky struggle with the buttons and decided to save him.

“Bucky, come over here. Let me help you with that,” he said calmly.

Trudging the short distance over to Riley, he watched the man straightened his shirt and efficiently work the buttons.

“How is the shoulder doing?” Bucky asked.

“Not too bad,” Riley answered. “I’ve been greenlit to go back to work next week. I’ll be pushing paper for awhile which is kinda shitty.”

“You’d rather be watching Sam’s back?”

“Always.”

Bucky smiled. He looked down at the buttons. “Which one has the camera? The technology is unbelievable. I can’t tell.”

“This one,” Riley replied, pointing to one sitting in the middle of his sternum. He turned his head towards the tech person sitting at the kitchen table with a laptop. “How’s the camera working?”

“Working fine,” she replied, keeping her eyes on the screen.

Riley turned back to Bucky and smiled. “You’re good to go. All you need to do is tuck in your shirt.”

“Thanks,” he said. “It would have been nicer to have met you over beer and pizza instead of this. I can’t imagine having a bunch of people invade your home being that much fun.”

Riley shrugged his shoulders. “I know these clowns. So, it’s not a big deal. Believe me, Sam and I have had more people in this space. It’s been quiet since I got out of the hospital, so it’s good to get a taste of work again even though I’m not officially part of Sam’s operation.”

“So, you know what the plan is?”

“I do. I helped Sam put some of it together. We have a habit of bouncing stuff off of each other.”

Bucky started to fidget. “I’m kinda nervous about this. I don’t know if I can stay calm around Mel. Just thinking that she might have something to do with framing Steve for someone’s death. I don’t know how I’m not going to lose my shit with her.”

“For starters, we have no concrete evidence that the reason your wife met with Pierce has anything to do with Chamberlain’s murder. But, there is a high probability, that Pierce is involved with trying to set up Steve for her murder. Did Sam tell you the fingerprints on the bag the jewels were produced three sets of fingerprints?”

“No, he didn’t. I hadn’t thought about it, to be honest.”

“It’s understandable. Well, one set belongs to Steve. Another set is unknown. That person isn’t in the system. And the third set belongs to Pierce.”

Bucky pondered what he just heard.

“This operation won’t be done in vain,” Riley continued. “There will be a payoff for us. We just don’t know how much.”

“I don’t want to fuck this up. My life experience hasn’t exactly prepared me for this.”

Riley smiled kindly at him. “Don’t sell yourself short. This is going to work, Bucky. Trust Sam. Trust your instincts. Just stay alert.”

Steve walked up to Bucky from behind, placing his hands on the man’s hips. “You okay?” he asked quietly.

“I will be.”

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Riley announced. “I need to talk to Sam about something.” He smiled and walked away.

“After today, it’ll just be you and me, okay?” Steve said with confidence. “The future will be wide open.”

“I’d rather be back in that lumpy motel bed with you.”

Steve chuckled. “Yeah, I have to agree with you on that. Naked morning cuddles are a good way to start the day.”

Sam walked up to the two men with Riley beside him as everyone started leaving the apartment to set up the ruse. His expression indicated he was ready to start the operation. 

“Good to go?” he asked.

“Yep,” both men said at the same time.

“Good. I can’t say this enough. We’ll have eyes on you the whole time. Inside and outside the restaurant. The private dining room is set up and wired. We have your backs.”

“Okay,” Steve responded. He looked at Bucky. “Let’s do this.”

• • • • •

Bouncing his right leg, Bucky waited anxiously in the private dining room for Melanie to appear. For a moment, he allowed himself to think this room would have been perfect for a romantic dinner with Steve. But he knew after today, that idea would never come to fruition. 

Hearing voices coming from the hallway, he straightened his shirt. His eyes flicked up to the location where the hidden camera had been ensconced. The voices grew louder until the host walked in with Melanie. Wearing navy blue dress pants, a cream-colored shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, low-heeled black pumps and hair gathered in a low bun, she looked like she had been in a meeting before arriving at the restaurant.

She stopped for a second to look around before sitting down in the chair the host pulled out for her, placing her handbag by her feet. 

“Your server will come by in a couple of minutes with menus and get your drink orders. If you need anything, my name is Tyson,” he smiled as he turned and left the room.

“I wasn’t expecting the private dining room, James,” she commented with a bit of a surprise. Even though Segovia’s was her favorite restaurant, she had no idea what to expect. But she definitely had not been expecting the level of privacy Bucky had created for their conversation.

“Considering what we need to discuss, I thought it would be best it be done without nosy diners and anybody thinking about eavesdropping on what we have to say to each other,” Bucky explained. He surprised himself with his ability to remain calm, to not lose his temper and confront her about Pierce. He desperately wanted to wring her neck.

“Of course. That makes perfect sense.” She paused. Bucky knew she was still wary about this lunch. He couldn’t blame her for feeling that way. “I almost forgot how practical and careful you are.”

“Which is why I would never humiliate you by publicly flaunting my relationship with Steve. You need to know that.” 

•

Inside a black van located across the street from the restaurant, Sam, along with a couple of members of his team and two plainclothes officers, watched Bucky and Melanie interact via the hidden camera on one monitor. Another monitor displayed the feed from Bucky’s shirt button cam. The audio from both feeds coming in loud and clear.

Sam pressed a button on the mic attached to his earpiece. “Everybody keep the channel open. Everything is in play. John, can you hear me?”

“Loud and clear, Sam.”

John and Steve were roughly a block away, standing near a bus stop.

“Tell Steve he can head in. The first subject is with James, we’re clear.”

“Got it.” John casually turned to face Steve. “You’re good to head in now.”

Steve nodded. “Thanks.” He and John parted ways in opposite directions. 

He inhaled several deep breaths, willing himself to stay loose and calm as he walked into the restaurant, straight to the bar, waiting for Pierce to appear. He was grateful for Melanie arriving on time to meet Bucky. He had been concerned she would run late and bump into Pierce at the same time. He knew he could work off-script, but he wasn’t sure if Bucky could fly blind in a situation like that. 

Scanning the area, Steve noticed a couple of familiar faces from Sam and Riley’s apartment. He waived off the bartender, indicating he was waiting for someone and would order a drink after.

Ten minutes later, Steve spotted Pierce walking past the restaurant’s floor to ceiling windows towards the entrance with Brock. Pierce walked through the restaurant doors while Brock remained outside. He didn’t have any way of communicating with Sam that someone needed to keep an eye on the dark-haired man. 

•

Unknown to Steve, one of Sam’s men, did notice the man who accompanied Pierce. 

“Sam, the subject brought someone with him.”

Sam remembered Steve mentioning Brock. His gut told him that was who he was. “Does he look familiar, Wally?”

“No, not any known associates I’ve seen before. Subject entered Segovia’s, but this new subject isn’t following him. He’s staying outside.”

“Okay, just keep an eye on him. Nothing’s changed. Stick to the plan for now.”

•

Pierce noticed Steve walking towards him. “Excellent choice in venue, Steven,” he smiled. “More visually appealing than that marina cafe where I had to meet you a couple of months ago.”

“There is nothing wrong with that place. But I figured an upscale location would be more appropriate for what we’re going to discuss.” Steve caught Tyson’s attention. “Excuse me, is our table ready?”

“Yes, it is. If you will follow me, it’s right this way.”

Steve and Pierce followed the host. Pierce noticed they were walking through the dining area towards a hallway. “Where are we going, Steven?”

“I reserved one of the private dining rooms. I thought it would be better to discuss our matter without the white noise of the dining area.” 

“I’m impressed with the extra step you’re making. At least you’re taking this meeting seriously.”

Steve smiled to himself without Pierce taking notice. 

As Steve and Pierce made their way to private dining rooms, the dark-haired man entered the restaurant.

“Sam, our guy just entered the restaurant.”

“Sharon, you got eyes on the subject?”

“Got him.” She watched the man stroll over to the bar and order a drink. Getting up from her table, she walked up to the bar, sat three barstools down from the man, and ordered a drink as well. He glanced in her direction and smiled. She smiled back, playfully twirling a strand of her blonde hair around her fingers.

•

Bucky heard the muffled voices on the other side of the door. The host opened the door leading Steve and Pierce into the room. Melanie looked up to see the two men who were still seemed to be deep in discussion. With wide eyes, her jaw dropped. She had not expected to see him, not after their last meeting where Pierce nonchalantly admitted that one of his boys had killed Elizabeth Chamberlain by accident. “He had gotten carried away” was how Pierce described it. It was something she didn’t want to hear and couldn’t un-hear it. She had wanted to get away from the man after that meeting, hoping she would never have to see him again.

“Here you are, gentlemen, “ Tyson said. “I believe the other guests haven’t ordered yet,” he continued, gesturing to Bucky and Melanie. “I’ll have someone drop by to take your orders.” Calmly, Tyson made his exit.

Steve looked at Melanie, then at Bucky. He smiled. Pierce turned his head, slightly confused.

“What is he talking about?” he groused. “What other guests?” 

Pierce’s eyes locked onto the table where Bucky and Melanie were seated. Completely ignoring Bucky, his eyes narrowed at Melanie.

“Melanie Wilton-Barnes,” he smiled. “I wasn’t expecting a captive audience with you. How is the campaign going?”

“It’s… going very well,” she replied, trying not to fumble over her words. She couldn’t hide the tension in her body and in her voice.

“Sir,” Steve interrupted gesturing to Pierce to take the chair Bucky just vacated. “If you could take a seat at the table, please.”

“What is this about, Steven?” Pierce growled.

“Bucky and I need to talk to both of you.”

Melanie turned her gaze onto Bucky who was leaning against the wall near the large horizontal black and white photograph of a side-lit flamenco dancer. The expression on his face told her everything she needed to know about the reason she and Pierce were in the same room. Her stomach roiled. She could see everything crumbling around her.

Instead of taking a seat in the empty chair, Pierce stalked away to the opposite end of the room, then turned to face Steve.

“You’re a clever guy,” Pierce assessed. “I actually believed you would come back into the fold and work for me. I could have taken care of you, you ungrateful shit… What did you want to talk to Ms. WIlton-Barnes and me about?”

“I believe that you, Melanie and Chamberlain are responsible for Beth’s death. And for some reason, the three of you decided to pin her death on me. I can come up with some wild guesses on why I was chosen, though.”

Melanie stared at Steve in disbelief. “I had nothing to do with her death,” she blurted out. “I will not be held responsible for something I was not a party to.”

“Then what were you party to?” Bucky asked calmly.

She turned to look at Bucky. Opening her mouth, no sound came out. Her talent, her ability to reach out and talk to anyone about anything, was failing her. The look on Bucky’s face was one of disappointment and loathing. She took a deep breath and tried to speak again.

“I am only responsible for assisting Alexander in an attempt to frame Steve for Mrs. Chamberlain’s death. I don’t know who killed her. My involvement came after her death hit the newspapers.”

Her confession slammed into Bucky like a runaway freight train, knocking the air out of him. His heart pounded, yet there was a sense of relief knowing her role in this mess. He looked away from her, his gaze falling onto Steve’s face, which was marked with an apologetic expression. He didn’t want Steve apologizing for Melanie’s actions.

“You really are unbelievable, Melanie,” Pierce muttered, breaking the silence in the room. 

Slowly, he walked towards Melanie. “You came to me, looking for my assistance in removing Steven from your husband’s life. I should have known your distaste for my methods was going to spell trouble for me.”

Melanie visibly shrank away from Pierce. Without hesitation, Steve and Bucky moved towards Pierce and Melanie. 

Steve stepped in front of Pierce. “That’s enough,” he warned.

Pierce pointed a finger at him. “You do not tell me what is or isn’t enough. You were one of my best boys until Ms. Romanoff got her claws into you. That bitch knew better than to poach from me. I should have taken care of her when I had the chance.”

“Nat did me a favor by taking me under her wing,” Steve stated.

“You must be kidding me,” Pierce snorted. “That is utter bullshit.”

“Your clientele were becoming unsavoury and dangerous. I was in more danger working for you than working for Nat.”

“Then why did you agree to do me the favor of taking on the Chamberlains when I called you?”

“Out of misplaced decent respect for a client I wasn’t familiar with and because I was freelancing on the side. It had nothing to do with you. I thought it wasn’t going to be anything unusual. But I was so fucking wrong. Doing you a favor was a mistake.”

“My mistake was thinking you could actually work for me again.”

“Why did she die?”

“Her death was an accident. Thomas wanted to remind Beth who was in control. Brock was the reminder.”

Steve’s hands clenched into fists. Bucky gritted his teeth as his chest tightened. Melanie felt sick, fearing she might taste vomit in her mouth at any moment.

“He got carried away, and Thomas couldn’t or didn’t want him to stop,” Pierce continued. “He was never clear about it, and I never asked.”

•

Back at the bar, Sharon watched the dark-haired man knock back a couple of shots and toy with his ear. The bartender walked over to her. 

“Your drink has been paid for.”

“Excuse me.”

The bartender pointed his thumb over at the dark-haired man. “He paid for it.”

She smiled. “Really?” She glanced over at the man who gave her a confident, cocky smile. She smirked and raised her glass at him. “Thank you.”

•

Steve continued to verbally poke at the man. “There was a man in the underground parking at my condo unit a few nights ago. He looked familiar. I might have seen him at your night club the last time I was there. That was Brock, wasn’t it?”

Pierce didn’t answer.

“He arrived with you today, but he didn’t come into the restaurant with you. Why is that? He’s not a dog you can tie up with a leash and leave outside while you’re here. He was the one who planted Beth’s jewelry in my car.”

Pierce’s eyes bored through him, still opting to not respond.

Steve pulled out the ziplock bag of jewels and tossed it onto the middle of the dining table. “Here they are.”

Pierce glanced at the jewels. “That can’t be them. If they were hidden in the car, the bag would be covered in car grease. It’s too clean.” 

Steve offered a tight smile. “I know. The original bag is in a safe place. I think I’ll send it off to the police. I’m sure they’ll find it interesting. It will have my fingerprints, but I have to wonder if they’ll find other fingerprints. Maybe they’ll find Brock’s fingerprints. Or maybe even yours.” 

The expression on Pierce’s face went dark. 

•

Now sitting beside the dark-haired man who introduced himself as Brock, Sharon did her best to laugh at his bad jokes. Undeniably, he was a smooth talker, but there was a kind of oiliness to his character that made her skin crawl.

Brock called over the bartender. “Could you tell me where the washrooms are?”

“Sure,” the bartender replied, pointing to the hallway located fifteen feet from the bar. “Head down the hallway. It splits off into another hallway. Don’t follow that one. That’s where the private dining rooms are. Just walk straight, and it’ll be the first door on your right.”

“Thanks, buddy.” He turned his gaze onto Sharon. “I’ll be back in a few minutes, alright? Keep my seat warm?”

“Sure thing. I’ll definitely be keeping it warm for you,” she smiled flirtatiously. She watched him disappear into the hallway. Out of sight from everyone in the restaurant, Brock moved quickly towards the private dining rooms, looking over his shoulder, making sure no one was following him. 

•

“You need to choose your words very carefully, Steven,” Pierce warned.

“Or what?” Steve asked, petulantly. “You know… I have to wonder… why am I being made to be the fall guy? Why put Beth’s murder on my head?”

“You were convenient.”

“Convenient?”

“And easy. You made enemies, Steven. Don’t tell me you didn’t know your attitude, your _scruples_ weren’t going to rub people the wrong way. You thought you were too big for me and it looks like you thought you were too big for Ms. Romanoff, too. There’s a price to pay for your arrogance. There are some who wouldn’t shed a tear if you went away.”

Before Steve could respond to Pierce, there was a knock on the door.

•

Sam also heard the knock on the door. It wasn’t part of the plan.

“What the hell is going on?” Sam barked into his mic. “Everybody check-in, right now.”

A flurry voices flooded into his earpiece, but one voice stood out.

“I don’t have eyes on the third subject, Brock,” Sharon reported, pulling out her gun from her holster, heading in the direction of the hallway. “He said he was going to the washroom, but he hasn’t returned. He could have made his way to the private dining area… shit.”

•

Everyone looked at the door, Steve walked over to open it, assuming someone was arriving to take their orders. He only managed to catch a glimpse of Brock before a fist connected to his face. Steve staggered backwards before falling to the floor. 

Brock closed the door behind, locking everyone inside. 

Bucky watched Steve shake off the punch as he got up onto one knee. Brock stalked towards Steve.

•

“Move in, now!” Sam ordered. Along with the two plainclothes officers, he ran out of the van towards the restaurant.

Sharon arrived at the door, trying to jiggle it open. Hearing the scuffle inside, she banged on the door.

“LAPD! Open the door!”

•

The sound of a fist banging the door startled Melanie away from the scene unfolding before her eyes. Remembering the purse sitting at her feet, she grabbed it, fumbling through it for something.

Bucky rushed at Brock as he prepared to throw another punch at Steve. Both men grunted on impact as they slammed against the wall. Brock elbowed Bucky below his ribs. The pain knocked the breath out of Bucky, making him slide down the wall.

Watching Bucky grimace in pain, Steve charged at Brock, managing to throw a couple of punches at him. But a sharp pain in his side caused him to roar, halting him from throwing another punch. Looking down at the origin of the pain, Steve watched, with disbelieving detachment, his blood seeping out, staining his shirt. 

Bucky watched in horror as Steve glanced at the blood-stained tactical knife sitting in Brock’s hand and slowly dropped to his knees. The man grinned coldly at Steve’s pain. 

Shaking off the pain, Bucky grimaced as he got up and made another run at Brock. Knocking Brock over, they fell backwards, grappling with each other. Brock managed to get the upper hand by pinning Bucky down by sitting on his hips, holding the knife to his throat.

•

Sharon heard the sound of voices fast approaching her. Rounding the corner and heading straight for her was Sam, Tyson, with the key to the door, and the officers. As Tyson slid the key into the lock, two gunshots rang out. 

“Steve! Bucky!” Sam yelled as the door unlocked. Flooding the room with extra bodies, Sam scanned the place to find Brock slumped on top of Bucky with two gunshot wounds to the back. Tyson rushed to help Bucky untangle himself from the man. 

The next person Sam noticed was Melanie standing beside the table with a gun in her hands, her purse dumped on the floor with its contents scattered around it. Sharon stepped up to her, calmly encouraging her to lower the weapon.

Sam spotted Pierce, indignant and full of bluster, arguing with one of the officers. 

He spotted Steve sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall, grimacing as he put pressure on the wound. Walking over to him, he glanced at the blood-smeared hand covering the wound before looking Steve in the eyes.

“You had to play hero, didn’t you?”

“He started it,” Steve rasped. “He didn’t introduce himself.”

Sam chuckled. “You’re an ass.”

Steve attempted to throw out a retort, but Sam stopped him.

“Don’t say a word.”

“Bucky.”

“He’s alright. Just one sec.”

Sam set his gaze on Bucky who was checking on Brock. He looked up at Sam and shook his head. Sam nodded his understanding. Bucky’s gaze shifted over to Steve. Without any prompting, he scrambled over to them, ignoring the sound of Pierce protesting that he didn’t need to be handcuffed. He ignored the quiet conversation Sharon was having with Melanie. 

Crouching down to see Steve eye-to-eye, he lifted Steve’s hand off the wound. 

“Buck…”

“Hey, Stevie. It’s over. Let’s take care of you, okay?”

“You okay?”

Bucky smiled fondly at him. “You’re alive, so yeah, I’m okay.”

“Good,” Steve grinned.

“Let’s see what kind of trouble you got yourself into.”

With care, Bucky undid the shirt buttons, gently removing the part of the shirt where it was stained with blood to examine the wound.

“I got this,” he stated, his eyes meeting Sam’s. “You go do what you need to do. I’ll have this under control by the time the paramedics get here.”

“Okay. Just shout at me if you need anything,” Sam offered before getting up to check on his officers.

Steve blinked at the man in front of him. “Buck…”

“Shhh, just stay quiet,” he said, cupping the left side of Steve’s face, stroking his cheek with his thumb. “You’re spending a lot of energy trying to get in the last word. Save it for when you’re feeling better. You know you’re a lucky bastard, right? This could have been a lot worse.”

Steve tried to chuckle, but it didn’t quite work out the way he intended.

“Don’t do anything. Just stay still… You’re a terrible patient.”

“When you’re the doctor, it’s kinda hard to stay still.”

Bucky smiled, his cheeks managing to pinken. “Shush. Let me take care of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! This chapter was a ride. One more to go. Posting on Monday.


	9. This idea of us

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bucky and Melanie get closure. Bucky has a conversation with his father. And Steve and Bucky are ready to move on together with their lives.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, this is the end of the line for this story. But it isn't the end of the line for me and Stucky1980. 
> 
> We knew each other before I decided to participate in the Captain America Big Bang as a first timer. And I couldn't have been more pleased to discover she claimed my story to create art for. She is a fantastic artist, a great co-conspirator and a wonderful friend.
> 
> Our collaboration as writer and artist isn't done yet. We have something else in the works. No timeline for that one yet. 
> 
> So, please enjoy the final chapter and conclusion to this story. Cheers.

The silence was comforting in the observation room as Sam waited for Fury to arrive. He watched Melanie sit calmly and quietly in the next room after breaking down and crying on the way to headquarters. 

He couldn’t view her the same way he regarded Pierce. He was a piece of work. Melanie? It seemed she got caught up in something bigger than herself. Still, she had made her choices, and she had no one to blame but herself. The media hadn’t caught wind of her involvement in the investigation. 

But by tomorrow morning, it was going to become a feeding frenzy outside the building. The least Sam could do was try to shield her from the fallout for as long as he could.

The door opened. And Fury walked in, his expression still not showing any hint of relief that the Chamberlain murder was this close to being wrapped up. 

“How is our rising political star doing?”

“As well as expected under the circumstances. Her star is going to crash to the ground if you haven’t figured it out by now, sir.”

“No need to get smart with me.” Fury’s voice showed a hint of tease. “I’m just sorry to see her political aspirations die. I was going to vote for her. She would have done great things. How long has she been in there?”

“Long enough to regret her choices a thousand times over. I’m just waiting for her lawyer to show up and we’ll start.”

The door opened again. This time, Assistant District Attorney Cho and another woman entered the small observation room.

“Gentlemen,” Cho began. “This is Hope Van Dyne, Wilton-Barnes’ attorney. Ms. Van Dyne, this is Captain Nichols Fury and Detective Sam Wilson. She will be present during her confession, Detective Wilson.”

“Good afternoon, gentlemen. I would have preferred that my client wasn’t here, but we don’t always get what we want,” Van Dyne said ruefully. “Are you ready to speak with my client, Detective Wilson?”

“Indeed, I am. Right this way.”

• • • • •

Sam pressed the record button on the small video camera. Sitting down at the table across from Melanie and her lawyer, he spoke.

“Melanie Wilton-Barnes, I just want to clarify that you are, indeed, making a confession for your role in the cover-up of Elizabeth Chamberlain’s death and the subsequent plan to frame Steven Grant Rogers for her death.”

“Yes, I am.”

“We have you on tape admitting that you were only responsible for assisting Alexander Pierce in his attempt to frame Steve Rogers for Elizabeth Chamberlain’s death,” Sam stated. 

Melanie nodded. “That’s correct.”

“To be clear, you knew nothing about the circumstances surrounding her death?”

“No. I only got in touch with Mr. Pierce after news of her death was in the papers.”

“What prompted you to contact Pierce?” Sam knew the answer, but he needed her to verbalize it.

Melanie hesitated. 

Van Dyne placed her hand on her forearm. “Just breathe. Say what you need to say. You said you wanted to get everything off your chest.”

Melanie closed her eyes, taking a deep breath.

“I contacted him because I wanted Steve out of James’ life. James told me he was seeing him. But I was aware of their relationship long before he told me what was happening.”

“Are you and your husband in an open relationship?”

“It’s a marriage of convenience arranged by James’ father. The marriage was never consummated. I went into the marriage knowing who James was, and I was fine with that. We lived separate lives. We were friends before we married.”

Sam narrowed his eyes at her. 

“Senator Barnes didn’t want the public to learn about James’ sexual orientation,” she clarified.

“The senator has never indicated he was against LGBTQ rights,” Sam remarked. “This goes against some of the initiatives he’s created that has been a benefit to the community.”

“You know there are people who say one thing publicly but do the opposite in private. He is one of those individuals.”

“You said you and James were friends before you married.”

“Yes, we were very close friends. We’ve known each other since we were teens.”

“And now?”

“It’s been strained. It’s been that way for a while. Long before he met Steve.”

“If you were living separate lives, if the relationship between the two of you was becoming strained, why did you want Steve out of James’ life?”

“When you pretend to be in a relationship with someone, you eventually find yourself falling in love with that person.” Melanie paused. “I knew exactly where we stood with each other. I didn’t want to fall in love with him, but I did. And I was irrationally jealous. It got the better of me.”

“How did you know Pierce was the person you needed to talk to about Rogers?”

“I heard James and his father arguing one time. They both thought I wasn’t home yet. My father-in-law mentioned Mr. Pierce’s name; that’s how I figured out who to approach. When I met Mr. Pierce, I asked him if he knew Steve. He said he did. I told him I needed Steve out of James’ life. He didn’t ask what my reasons were. He was too happy to help me out. He said he had the perfect idea.”

“And that was?”

“Set Steve up to take the blame for Elizabeth Chamberlain’s death. He said he had the resources to do it. He never shared what he meant or how he was going to do it. And I never wanted to know. He said this would, as he put it, kill two birds with one stone.”

“What did he want in exchange for helping you?”

“He never said what he wanted. He said if there was anything that I could help him with after I got voted into congress, he would contact me. Keeping his options open, I guess.”

Sam breathed out. “I’d say so. It makes you beholden to him. What was your role in helping Pierce frame Rogers?”

“I knew my father-in-law had surveillance on James and Steve. Another thing I learned from their argument. So, I managed to get my hands on information pertaining to Steve and shared it with Mr. Pierce. He was interested in Steve’s daily routine.”

“Okay, let’s talk about Brock Rumlow.”

“Who is that?”

“The man you shot and killed.”

“Oh, him.”

“We went over the video. We know what transpired. But I’d like to hear from you why you shot him.”

“He was going to kill James. He was going to kill someone. I couldn’t standby and watch.”

“The gun is registered under your name?”

“Yes. I bought it a couple of years ago. Before I decided to run for congress. I bought it for my own protection. You never know, right?”

“Is there anything else you would like to add before I stop the recording?”

Melanie shook her head. “No. I know what I did. I’m ready to accept the consequences.”

• • • • •

Exiting the elevator, carrying a small box of pastries, Sam walked past the nurses’ station, making his way to the last room at the end of the hallway. Peeking through the small window in the door, Sam smiled at the sight of Bucky napping awkwardly in what was probably the most uncomfortable chair in the world. His upper body leaned against the hospital bed while his head rested beside Steve’s right hip. He spotted the fondness and love on Steve’s face as his fingers threaded through Bucky’s hair. Sam lightly tapped the door before entering the room.

Steve turned his gaze towards the door. “Hey.”

“How are you feeling?” Sam asked in a semi-hushed tone. He waved the box in front of Steve. “I picked up some baked goodies. Might make whatever dinner the hospital plans to give you, go down a little easier. How long has he been sleeping?”

Steve glanced down at Bucky and smiled. “I don’t know. Half an hour, I guess.”

“He’s hasn’t left your side, has he?”

“Nope. And to answer your first question, I’m doing good. I’m ready to leave. I’m still sore, but I’m getting a little restless. Asshole actually twisted the knife. But he missed slicing up any major organs.” 

“You’re a lucky bastard.”

“Yeah, but it hurt like hell. No infection, though. I’m stitched up.”

“Considering that he’s also a doctor, has he been driving the nurses and the attending doctor crazy? Challenging every decision made about your treatment?”

“I heard that,” Bucky mumbled. He raised his head to look at the two men. “I’ll have you know that I was tempted to question a couple of decisions, but it would have been bad form to actually challenge the doctor. However, I would have challenged if I thought a decision went completely against what I would have considered good patient care.” 

Sam stared at him for a moment. “I definitely want you for my doctor.”

“Glad to have your vote of confidence.” Bucky rubbed the sleep from his eyes. “What’s in the box?”

“Sam says they’re snacks,” Steve answered. 

“More like baked goodies,” Sam clarified.

“Like what?” Bucky asked.

Sam flipped open the box, tilting it to show the two men. Chocolate fudge brownies topped with chocolate ganache and cannoli. Bucky grabbed a cannoli, quickly shoving it into his mouth. Steve laughed as he picked out a brownie and bit into it.

“Please don’t tell me you haven’t eaten since Steve was admitted,” Sam said with concern.

“I won’t,” Bucky mumbled with Italian pastry in his mouth. “It’s only been a couple of days.”

Steve shrugged his shoulders. “He’s his own person. He wouldn’t have listened to me if I told him to go back to the motel to get some sleep.”

“They’re going to discharge you today, Stevie,” Bucky added. “So, we might miss the hospital grub. We’ll pick up some real food on the way back to the motel.”

“Why don’t we check out of the motel, pick up some take-out, and head back to my place, Buck.” Steve looked at Sam. “Is it alright for me to go back to my place? You guys are done squatting there, right?”

Sam smiled and shook his head. “Don’t ride my ass about your place. I know for a fact, they didn’t tear it apart. It’s neat and tidy, just the way you left it.”

Steve chuckled before his expression became more somber. “How are things going with the investigation?”

“Melanie confessed to her part of the plan to frame you. She’ll be charged with criminal conspiracy. Shooting Brock Rumlow was self-defence since she was trying to keep him from killing the two of you. She’s co-operating with the investigation, and that’s going to go a long way in reducing her sentence.”

“She’s going to plead guilty?” Bucky asked.

“Yeah, that’s what her lawyer said will happen. She doesn’t want a trial.”

Bucky let the words sink in. “Uhm, I’m just gonna go down to the cafeteria and grab a coffee. I need to wake up. I’ll see you in a bit.” He stood up and headed out the door.

Steve gave Sam a worried look. Sam placed the box on Steve’s lap. “Let me talk to him,” Sam said. “He just needs to clear his head.”

Bucky waited impatiently for the elevator to slowly make its way to his floor. His mind was overwhelmed with the fact Melanie would be going to prison. His gut roiled. He felt nothing but guilt for what was going to happen to her. He had never wanted this for her. He had only wanted them to be free of each other, to live the way they needed in order to be happy.

Lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice someone standing beside him, waiting for the elevator, as well.

“Are you feeling? You left pretty quick.”

Bucky looked down at the floor and smiled ruefully. “I don’t know what I’m feeling, Sam. This year has been crazy. This summer has been crazy. And now we’re nearing the end of summer. Mel decided to run for congress. I met and fell in love with Steve who then became a suspect in a woman’s death. He almost died. And Mel is gonna go to prison. All because of me. All because of a choice I made. I’m not exactly sure how I’m supposed to feel right now.”

“Nobody is expecting you to take everything with a grain of salt. This has put you and Steve and everyone directly connected to this, through the wringer.”

“Mel doesn’t deserve to go to prison, Sam.”

“She made her choice. She’s decided to own that choice… I think you need to see her,” Sam suggested. “She asked me to tell you she wants to talk to you.”

The pinging sound warned the elevator had arrived and the door would slide open any second. Both men walked into the empty elevator. 

“I gotta be honest with you… I don’t know if I want to see her,” Bucky admitted.

“I understand that you don’t want to see her. I get it, but I think it’s important for both of you to have a conversation.”

“I don’t know what to say to her. I don’t know where to start.”

The elevator door closed and started its descent to the main floor.

“Follow her lead. Let her say what she needs to say. You’ll know what to say when she’s done. She’ll listen to everything you need to say. You both need closure.”

“You sound like you speak from experience.”

“Talk to Riley. He’s my experience,” Sam said.

That brought a small smile to Bucky’s face. “Okay, I’ll talk to her. Do you still have her in custody?”

“Yeah. The media are parked outside your home. We have officers outside to keep them at bay. Her lawyer and I thought it would be best if she stayed under our protection. Your father is being hounded for a statement. He hasn’t given one yet, and everyone is looking for you and Steve.”

“Shit. This is a fucking mess… Can I see her after I have my coffee? ”

“Sure. She stood before a judge this morning to plead guilty. The sentencing hearing is going to take place in two days.”

The elevator door slid open to the main floor. They exited, crossing the circular foyer, on their way to the cafeteria.

“Everything is moving so fast.”

“Everyone involved, including your wife, wants this to be done as efficiently as possible.”

“Will she go straight to prison after the sentencing?”

“Depends on what the judge hands her. She might. But considering she’ll be one of the witnesses in Chamberlain’s trial, she’ll probably be under house arrest until then.”

Sam waved at a man sitting on one of the benches. The man rose and walked in their direction. “Bucky, this is John. You might remember him. He was at my place while we were getting you and Steve wired up.”

“Yes, I do.” He shook the man’s hand.

“He will keep you company at the cafeteria. Take your time. I’ll head back to Steve and wait for you there.”

• • • • •

Digging his index finger into a cannoli, Steve scooped out the ricotta filling, shoving it into his mouth. He groaned at the creamy sweetness dancing on his tongue. Unceremoniously, Steve bit into the pastry shell, loving the texture of the crumbly fried dough contrasting with the cream. He dug out the remaining filling to lick off his finger. Sam walked in, unable to hide the slightly disturbed expression.

“That’s not how you eat cannoli,” he advised.

“I’ll eat it any way I want… How’s Buck doing?”

“He needs to process everything.” Sam grabbed the last cannoli from the box. “The same thing goes for you, too. When he comes back, I’m taking him to see his wife. She wants to talk to him.”

Steve thought for a moment. “Is this going to be the last time they’ll get the opportunity to talk to each other?”

“Most likely. She came across as wanting closure. She’s resigned to whatever the Fates have in store for her.” Sam bit into the cannoli.

Steve nodded. “What about Pierce and Chamberlain?”

“Pierce is talking. He had a lot of things to say about the night Chamberlain’s wife died. Had a lot to say about Brock Rumlow, too. He’s admitting to criminal conspiracy with intent to mislead and send an innocent person to prison. We’re throwing in a charge of obstruction of justice, among other things that the ADA is tallying.”

“I guess he does know when to wave the white flag and surrender.”

“Surprisingly, he does. As for Thomas Chamberlain, he’s going to have a tough time evading any charges. With Pierce and Wilton-Barnes agreeing to testify for the prosecution, he’s going to do time. I have my team looking for any medical records documenting any injuries Elizabeth Chamberlain sustained during the marriage. Sharon is talking to the women’s shelter where you took her to. His bank records have been subpoenaed,and we’re digging into his past relationships before he got married.”

“That’s a lot to chew on.”

“The DA is very interested. Considering who’s involved, she wants a bulletproof case for the jury to consider. But I won’t bog you down with the details. You’ll find out soon enough when their trials begin. You and Bucky are going to be called upon as witnesses for the prosecution.”

“I suspected as much. Are we required to stay in L.A. until the trial starts?”

“Nah, just promise to return. Don’t worry, I’ll be reminding you when you and Bucky need to appear.”

Silence descended on the room as Steve placed the pastry box on the tray table and flicked the crumbs off his gown and the bedsheets. Sam leaned on the bed.

“What are you going to do once you leave the hospital?” he asked.

“I’m going home, and Bucky is going to stay with me.”

“That’s short-term. I’m talking about the long-term. Are you still going to stay here and keep doing what you were doing before?”

“No. That’s off the table. I’m done with that life. I’m done with L.A. And I’m pretty sure L.A. is done with me. It’s time to leave and move on.”

“Does Bucky know you’re done?”

“Yeah, he does. I’ve talked to him about going to Brooklyn. He hasn’t been to Brooklyn, but he’s been to Manhattan but never really went beyond it.”

“He’s gonna follow you?”

“I think he’ll go anywhere as long as I’m there. I feel the same way. We can be nomads, and it won’t matter as long as we’re together.”

Sam smiled. “You really have it bad for him.”

Steve bit his lower lip, smiling to himself. “It’s more than that. I love him, Sam.”

• • • • •

“She’s in there,” Sam said, pointing Bucky to the closed door. “It’s not an interrogation room. There are no mirrors, just reinforced frosted windows. You have all the privacy you need. I’ll be out here waiting. Okay?”

Bucky nodded. “Yeah, thanks.” Sam squeezed his shoulder before he opened the door and walked in.

The room was larger than he had expected. Not spacious but not claustrophobic either. In the middle of the room was a table. Melanie sat behind it, staring at her clasped hands. Dressed in prison blues and with her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail, she looked tired, pale, subdued and smaller than her five-foot-seven frame would suggest. 

She looked up. Bucky felt awkward as he shuffled his way to the table.

“Hi,” he managed to say.

“Hi,” she replied. “Please sit down.”

“How are you holding up?” Bucky slid into the wooden chair.

“Better than expected. I thought I would be inconsolable. But I’m not. Maybe it hasn’t hit me yet.” 

To Bucky’s ears, she sounded tired. The public persona she honed before and during the campaign was non-existent. He wanted to see Melanie, the person who had been his closest friend since they were teenagers. Not the person he grew indifferent towards. Not the person whose company he couldn’t bear to keep anymore. He took a good look at her. She didn’t flinch under his gaze. There was nothing left of the Melanie he first met years ago. She knew that, too.

“Have you had a chance to speak with your family?”

“I have. I had to warn them that the media might show up at their front door.”

“How is your mom taking the news?”

“She’s devastated, of course. She’s fretting. She’s worried. She doesn’t know what to do. She hates the fact we’re not living in the same state.”

There was a minute of silence before she continued.

“I asked Hope to draw up divorce papers,” she said in a matter-of-fact tone. 

Bucky stared at her in surprise. He had assumed he would be the one to initiate divorce proceedings.

“I thought it would be best to sever ties now,” Melanie continued. “I know you had suggested we separate quietly after the primaries. But considering that things have changed, I didn’t see the point in putting it off. It would have made things more difficult in your non-existent relationship with the press.”

It was true he kept a low profile from the media. He was a pro at keeping his nose out of trouble. But he had never been under intense focus where his personal life was part of the daily news reports and the subject of gossip and hearsay.

“I don’t know what to say, Mel.”

“I’m not expecting you to say much. I just wanted to let you know what’s going to happen in the short term.”

“And what else is going to happen aside from the divorce?”

“Your father has started dismantling the campaign. The money drummed up for the race will be returned to the supporters if they want. As part of the divorce, the house is going to go up for sale unless you want to keep it.”

Bucky shook his head. 

“Alright, the house goes up for sale. After the sentencing, there’s a good chance I’ll be under house arrest. I’ll be doing that at your parents’ place. Their lawyer reached out to Hope. Your mother doesn’t want me to be alone.”

“She loves you,” Bucky commented. “She would do anything for you.”

“Yes, she made it very clear when our lawyers were talking. So, you have time to pack up your things and move out whenever you want. I’m sure Steve would be more than happy to help collect your things. Pack up whatever you want to take from the house. I’m not interested in formally dividing our assets in half. Hope will be in touch with your lawyer, and we’ll get this sorted out.”

“Are you sure you want to do it this way?”

“I’m very sure. I’m setting you free from this mess. Take it and get away from here. Take Steve with you.”

Bucky looked down at the table, trying to absorb everything she was telling him. “I’m sorry, Mel.” He looked up to meet her brown eyes. “You didn’t deserve this.”

“I made a bad decision born out of misplaced and unearned jealousy. I have no one to blame but myself.”

“You could put some of that blame on me.”

“I could blame your father, too. But I made a choice.”

“I made the same choice, too.”

“But you figured out you had nothing to lose by going against everything your father wanted for us. I wasn’t ready to face the fact I had to do the same thing. I reacted badly. And if you hate me, I can live with that.”

Bucky inhaled deeply, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling slowly.

“I don’t hate you, Mel. I never did. I just hated the marriage. I hated the fact I went into the marriage to try to earn Dad’s love and respect. But I never loved you the way you deserved to be loved. That was unfair to you, and I’m so sorry about that.”

“It was unfair to you, too.”

“How can you still be so kind to me? I’m the reason you’re here.”

“You may be the reason I’m here, but you didn’t put me here… Do you love Steve?”

“Yes.”

“Does he love you?”

“Yes.”

“Then I wish you and Steve well.”

• • • • •

Bucky stared at the back of the moving van he and Steve had hired to transport their belongings across the country to Brooklyn, taking stock of his and Steve’s separate lives stacked and packed together in one space. 

Two weeks ago, the media had stopped camping out in front of the house he and Melanie once shared. They had been camped out for almost three weeks. He returned to the house a couple of times but always had two police officers accompany him on Sam’s insistence. It had been hard not to turn and make an unflattering remark to anyone who had stuck their microphones in his face. 

But now, he could go about the business of moving out without having it turn into a three-ring circus. Bucky watched the movers transfer storage containers and cardboard boxes filled with clothes, books, and items he wanted to keep after the divorce was finalized. 

The van also contained Steve’s belongings. They had decided to keep Steve’s sofa and loveseat, giving the rest of the furniture away. They were taking everything from Bucky’s home office and bedroom, including the furniture. 

After Melanie’s sentence had been commuted to community service and house arrest which included wearing an ankle monitor for two years, Bucky had told her he was willing to help gather her belongings for storage to get the house ready to go up for sale. But she had declined, stating her family would fly in from Seattle to help sort out and pack up her stuff and put them in storage. 

The movers were almost done loading his stuff when he heard a car roll up behind him. He turned around, thinking it was Steve arriving after finishing up the paperwork of selling his condo.

Instead, he saw his father’s driver climb out of the car and open the door for his father to exit. He watched his father walk up to him.

“James.”

“Dad.”

His father glanced at the movers before settling his gaze on his son. “It seems like everything is moving along smoothly,” he observed.

“It is. Is there a reason you wanted to see me? I said my goodbyes to mom and Becca already. I even said goodbye to Mel even though she didn’t want to speak to me.”

“I wanted to see you before you left. I want you to let you know that I never knew Melanie had fallen in with Alexander Pierce to try to do what they did.”

“You mean try to frame Steve for murder?” 

His father looked away, feeling uncomfortable at being challenged by his own son.

“To be completely honest,” Bucky continued. “You had threatened to take Steve out of my life, and I honestly thought you could have been behind pinning the murder on him. So, it really doesn’t matter to me that you never knew what Mel was doing.

“I really want to blame you for this mess, but Mel and I share the blame, too. We blame ourselves for allowing you to talk us into agreeing to participate in a sham of a marriage, for allowing you to manipulate us because we couldn’t bear to disappoint you.

“I blame myself for not standing up to you when it counted because we wouldn’t be where we are right now if I had said no. The only thing that makes handling this mess easier is Steve. He’s the one good thing from all of this.”

George couldn’t say anything. He knew his son was right. He knew his biases and skewed priorities and ruined his relationship with his son. Acknowledging that to himself was one thing. Trying to repair that relationship was another. He couldn’t bring himself to try to fix it the way it needed to be fixed.

“I’m sorry you feel this way. I’m sorry I made you feel that way. But these are things I can’t change, so all I can do is say I’m sorry.”

Bucky shook his head and chuckled. “I know you can’t change. It would be asking too much of you.”

At that moment, Steve drove up to the driveway, parking behind George’s car. Turning the ignition off, Steve sat in the car waiting for the two men to finish their conversation.

Bucky noticed Steve, and gave him a nod, indicating it was alright to get out of the car. Steve exited the car and walked towards them. George turned in Steve’s direction, he acknowledged him but said nothing. Instead, he looked back at his son.

“For what it’s worth… good luck. Your mother and sister are going to miss having you nearby.” Without waiting for a response from Bucky, George turned, walked back to the car and left.

Bucky stood silently, staring at the spot where the car had been before it turned onto the road and disappeared. Steve came up from behind to wrap his arms around him and kissed his cheek. Sighing, Bucky leaned back and melted into him.

“Am I to assume the conversation didn’t go well?” Steve asked.

“Yes and no. It’s the best either one of us could muster.”

“I’m sorry, Buck.”

“Don’t be. It was never going to change. It’s alright.”

“Excuse me, sirs.” It was one of the movers. Bucky and Steve turned around.

“Yes,” Bucky replied. 

“I believe we have everything in the truck. If you wouldn’t mind taking one last look in the house to make sure we didn’t miss anything, we’ll be on our way.”

“Of course, we’ll take a look and let you know when you can leave.”

After taking one final sweep of the former office, the bedroom and the foyer where the boxes and containers had been stacked, the movers were given the green light to head out to New York City.

It had taken a couple of weeks after Steve was discharged from the hospital to find a brownstone located in the Brooklyn neighborhood of Park Slope. They had flown out for a weekend to see it and two other places they had short-listed. It was the last house they saw. The next day, they signed the papers. To celebrate, they explored the neighborhood, visited Prospect Park, which was within walking distance from their new home and had dinner at a nearby restaurant specializing in Moroccan cuisine.

As the van rolled away, Bucky locked the front door. He slipped the key into the lockbox by the door. He laced his fingers with Steve’s fingers as they headed towards the car.

“I have a couple of leads on some hospitals who would be interested in having my surgical skills,” Bucky commented.

“Where?”

“There’s the Presbyterian-Methodist hospital near Prospect Park, and the other is in downtown Brooklyn. I think I can take one bus to get there. My contacts have put in a good word for me so I should hear back before we get there whether or not they want to meet me.”

“That’s great, Buck.”

“Yeah, it’s really great. But even if I don’t find anything right away, I wouldn’t mind taking some time away and just… live.”

“Are you saying you want to be a house-husband?”

Bucky shrugged his shoulders. “Why not? It would only be for a short time. I’d only do it for you.”

Steve chuckled. “I got a phone call from one of the community outreach art programs that operates in Bed-Stuy before I got here.”

“Really? They’re interested?”

“Yeah, they’re interested. They’re thinking about having me on board to run their children’s arts program. They want to meet and have a conversation after we get there.”

Bucky kissed him on the cheek. “That’s great. You’ll finally get to use that fine arts degree.”

“Yeah, it took me a while to get around to using it. I think I’m gonna keep this beard. It’s easier to be incognito until we get summoned back here for the trials. I’ll shave it off when we have to come back.” Steve glanced at Bucky’s face and grinned. “You should grow a beard, too. It would be pretty easy for you to get furry. Imagine the beard burn you could give me.”

Bucky’s face turned red as he laughed, thinking about the rash Steve’s beard had given him last night at his condo. “Let me think about it.”

They arrived at the car and kissed. 

“You know I can’t wait to break in your bed properly on our first night at the new place,” Steve informed Bucky.

Bucky laughed again. “I’ve had that bed for six years. It’s broken in.”

“Not the way I want to break it in,” he replied, waggling his eyebrows. 

Bucky shoved him against the car, half laughing and half groaning, covering his face with his hands. “Fuck, Rogers, you have a one-track mind.”

“You do, too,” Steve chuckled, pulling him into his arms to hug him. “You ready to spend the rest of your life with me?” 

Bucky kissed him. “Yeah, I am. Til the end of the line.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it, folks. Thank you to everyone who stuck it out to the end. You guys are the best. 
> 
> Hope the ride this story has given you was worth the time you spent reading it. Your comments and enthusiasm have been amazing! Thank you so much, guys.
> 
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> 
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